Rosalie's POV:
I knew nothing of the storm brewing at the police station.
I could only hover in the air, watching with a heavy, conflicted heart as my father, Jerold, and Judith enjoyed their peaceful domestic life.
A bitter memory suddenly surfaced in my mind.
Years ago, my father had always been consumed by his work, claiming he never had a single spare hour to sit down and share a meal with me.
Whenever I begged him to come home for dinner, his excuse was always the same: he was too busy; there was simply no time.
Yet now, he had all the time in the world to dine with his foster daughter and her husband.
I bowed my head, a profound sense of sorrow washing over my spirit.
After dinner, they sat on the sofa and watched Judith's favorite family drama.
Judith kept up a running comm
