“Call her,” Cloe said. “Right now. Don’t wait.”
Harold’s hands were shaking too hard to dial. Mac took the phone gently from him and pressed the button himself, putting it on speaker, and Margaret answered before the first ring even finished.
“Dad.” Her voice was tight, fast, the voice of someone who’d been sitting with fear for longer than she wanted to admit. “Where are you. Are you safe.”
“I’m safe,” Harold said. “I’m with the Harlow family. With Dave.” He took a breath. “Margaret, I gave him the letter. The one from the original Harlow brother.”
There was a pause.
“Okay,” Margaret said slowly. “Okay, good. That’s good, Dad. That’s exactly what should have happened, eventually.” Her voice steadied slightly, the relief of someone confirming the thing they’d hoped for. “But you need
