He wasn't wearing his robes.
There was no theatrical security detail around.
It was just my father.
His hands were clasped, and his eyes were red.
"Dad."
He stood up immediately.
"I'm here."
"The baby..."
Fear tightened my throat.
He held my hand.
"The doctors are doing everything they can, and they'll explain exactly how both of you are doing."
I closed my eyes.
I had spent years hiding my marriage from him.
Not because he had abandoned me.
But because I had wanted to prove I could build a life without using his surname.
David thought that meant I had no one.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"You don't have to apologize to me."
"I never told you how they treated me."
My father remained silent.
—I thought I could handle it.
—Now you don't have to endure anything alone.
An hour later a detective arrived.
My father got up to leave.
"You can stay," I told him.
He shook his head.
