Back From The Grave For My Daughter

disinfectant smell was a grim

e phone laced with fake concern, "Ethan, d

ew her game, get me out, make me

am, Izzy. Don't

rived. Her face was a careful

pened? Izzy called me, she's

d on her. "Carol, I need to know yo

er chest, "Of course,

. I needed her compliant, or at

my voice tight, the real

ldn't she be?" Carol looked genuinely puzz

kled my knees. Lily was alive, at school. Not

y a social worker, my heart ached.

handmade card,

ds trembling. "Th

k, looking for the faint, old bruises I remembered fro

Her skin

uises had been a constant, unex

ard. "Daddy," written

t it hit me with the f

the one supposedly written by Lily,

ne, and I'd been too grief-stri

in, her arm in a sling, a small bandage on her

you out. We can sort this

t her. "Save yo

now. It was safer. It

ng alive and unharmed. The ca

out who really hurt Lily in that othe

protect her, no

tail of that past nightmare

Lily's death, but the *reason

I'm sorry. I don't know what ca

quickly masked. "Of course, Et

ber I'd memorized from a desperate,

stigator. "Mr. Rourke, I