One night I saw him hiding a small metal box in his pocket. I asked him what it was. Daniel's expression changed instantly.
"It's part of the job."
"So why are you taking her to the bathroom?"
He looked at me silently for a few seconds.
"I already told you it's nothing important."
I couldn't sleep that night.
Emma's terrified face kept flashing through my mind. I remembered how she had clung to me, begging me not to let her father bathe her.
The next morning I saw a red mark on his back.
"What is this?" I asked.
Daniel didn't even look at me.
"He probably scratched himself while playing."
"Didn't you see it last night when you bathed her?"
«No.»
She quickly grabbed her keys and left the house. That's when I felt real fear.
During the day I called our pediatrician. The receptionist told me we hadn't been to the appointment in the last few weeks. I asked if Daniel had called, but she replied that she couldn't give me that information.
When she returned home that night, she had already decided that I would bathe Emma myself.
"I'll do it tonight," I said as I grabbed the towel.
Daniel stood in front of me.
"No, Laura."
Her voice was calm, but her face was tense.
"She's my daughter too."
"I know."
"Then step aside."
"Can't."
I looked him in the eyes and whispered:
"What are you hiding from me?"
