“What was his name?”
Another silence.
Then Calvin said, “Ethan, go home. Hold your daughter’s hand. Let the courts handle Julian. If you dig deeper, you’ll lose more than Audrey almost lost tonight.”
“You threatened the wrong father.”
His voice hardened. “And you’re chasing people who don’t get arrested.”
The call ended.
I stood there listening to the dead tone, my reflection ghosted in the hospital window. An old man with wet hair, blood on his sleeve, and a fury so deep it felt almost sacred.
Then Audrey spoke behind me.
“Dad?”
I turned.
Her eyes were open.
“I heard his voice,” she whispered.
I rushed to her bedside. “You need to rest.”
“No.” Her fingers clutched mine with surprising strength. “There’s something I never told you.”
Her throat worked painfully.
“Julian used to take calls in the library at night. He thought I was too scared to listen. He said names. Dates. Sometimes he laughed about women like they were files in a cabinet.”
