Arlene
"Ar... Arlene, is that you?"
My father’s voice pulled my gaze away from my stepmother, who still hadn’t found her voice.
He stared at me in disbelief, and I couldn’t hold back. I rushed into his arms. The crowd remained frozen in shock, and the press wasted no time, capturing pictures and videos.
Flashes from cameras bombarded me like relentless waves, but I didn’t care. The familiar scent of my father’s cologne enveloped me—an aroma I could never forget, even during my time in Hawaii.
“Dad...” I whispered shakily as his arms coiled tightly around me, as if he feared I might vanish. “Dad...”
“Arlene, my baby,” his voice cracked with emotion. He was crying.
I didn’t want to pull away from him, but there was something bigger unfolding—something I couldn’t ignore. Daisy was gett
