« Claire is gone. I’m Lily’s father. You don’t get to decide. »
I studied him carefully.
His expensive black suit.
The fresh scratch near his collar.
The watch Claire had given him after he promised his affair was finished.
He believed I was nothing more than a retired librarian with trembling hands and a dead daughter.
He had forgotten what I did before spending twenty years surrounded by books.
I had worked as a forensic accountant.
Three nights before Claire died, she called me from a blocked number.
« Mom, » she whispered, « if anything happens to me, don’t believe Daniel. »
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