His eyes lifted for half a second before darting toward his parents.
That tiny glance told me who controlled this house.
“Mark,” I repeated. “What happened to my daughter?”
Linda cut in. “You need to leave.”
Emily grabbed my sleeve harder. “Dad, they said nobody would believe me because of what happened before.”
I frowned. “What happened before?”
Tears spilled down her bruised face.
“The miscarriage.”
The room tilted.
Emily and Mark had lost a baby six months earlier. She told me it had been devastating, but she never gave details. I remembered how withdrawn she became afterward, how her phone calls got shorter, how she always sounded exhausted.
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