Daniel stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes while Karen helped Lindy with her homework at the table behind him. It was a scene of domestic tranquility that should have filled him with contentment—the family he’d chosen, the life he’d committed to building. Instead, he found himself staring out the window at nothing, his hands moving mechanically through the familiar motions while his mind wandered to places he tried desperately not to go.
Emma would be walking by now. Maybe even talking. The automatic child support payment had gone through that morning—$347.82, the same amount every month—and as always, it had triggered a flood of questions he had no right to ask. Was she healthy? Happy? Did she look like him or Kassie? Did she ever ask about the father who’d legally signed her out of
