LILY
I had been tiptoeing around the house all morning, careful not to attract his attention, when I heard the soft giggle that made my chest tighten. Alice was in the sunroom, sprawled across a rug with her stuffed rabbit clutched against her chest. Her little feet kicked happily as she babbled in her own language, stacking blocks with a concentration I couldn’t help but admire.
Then I heard him—the quiet shuffle of footsteps, deliberate, controlled. My stomach clenched. I expected his usual cold glare, the reprimand that hovered just under the surface of every interaction. Instead, I froze when he entered the room, and he wasn’t looking at me at all. His eyes were on Alice.
“Look at that tower,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Careful now.”
Alice turned her head, eyes wide. “Dadd
