My throat tightened painfully.
“Who watches you?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Her lips trembled as tears rolled down her cheeks.
Then she whispered:
“Ryan.”
The world stopped.
I remember hearing the faucet drip behind me.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Each sound louder than the last.
“No,” I said automatically. “No, sweetheart… Ryan would never…”
But even as I spoke, memories began crashing into me.
Ryan insisting on helping with bedtime.
Ryan offering to bathe her so I could “rest.”
Ryan saying children needed structure and discipline.
Ryan always volunteering whenever Lily needed help changing clothes after swimming.
Things I had ignored.
Things I had explained away.
My stomach twisted violently.
I sat beside Lily and gently held her face.
