That evening, Emily climbed into his lap, eyes earnest. “Don’t be angry, Daddy. He said you’d understand, if you just listened.” Michael stroked her hair, torn between love and fury. Understand? He couldn’t even name the man who had been allowed this deep into his family’s life.
Michael lay awake, the house silent around him. The gloves, the shirt, the tools, the notes—they stacked like evidence in a case he couldn’t close. Betrayal seemed the only explanation. He clenched his jaw, resolved that the next time the shadow surfaced, he would force the truth out.