When he confronted Sarah, she folded her arms, her face taut. “Stop digging, Mike. Please. Not everything is a threat.” Her words landed cold, like a wall between them. She spoke of peace, but her eyes flickered with something else—fear. Fear of him uncovering what she refused to say.
That night, Emily crawled into his lap, whispering, “Don’t be mad. He said Daddy will accept someday.” Michael’s throat tightened. Accept what? He hugged her gently, but his gaze drifted past her to the locked desk drawer, the empty spaces, the evidence piling up like stones on his chest.