Scarlett’s POV
The call came in the early afternoon, right when the house was too quiet, when my thoughts were already too loud.
I had been sitting by the window, staring at nothing, my phone resting on my thigh like dead weight. And then it vibrated. Once. Twice.
“Dad.”
I knew something was off the moment I picked up and heard the rigid silence on the other end. Not the warm voice of a father calling to check in on his daughter, not the mild grumble of a man too proud to say he missed me. No, this wasn’t that.
“Scarlett,” he said.
Flat. Stern. Almost like I wasn’t his daughter, just a name in his mouth.
I swallowed, sat straighter, and replied with quiet caution. “Yes, sir?”
“We need to talk.”
And that was how it began.
The next voice to come in was my mother’s, but there was no
