The lobby became quiet.
Too quiet.
The security guard cleared his throat.
“Miss Bennet, are you all right?”
“Yes.”
The answer came automatically.
Sonic looked at me.
I corrected myself.
“No.”
The guard nodded.
“The cameras recorded everything. We can preserve the footage. We should also add his photograph to the restricted entry list.”
“Please do.”
“And the police?”
My fingers tightened around my phone.
I looked through the glass doors.
My father was gone.
For years, my mother had protected him from consequences.
Then I had.
Not directly.
But through silence.
Through distance.
Through the money I continued sending my mother while pretending not to know where some of it went.
If I called the police now, my mother would cry.
She might say he had only been angry.
She m
