The darkness.
Then I remembered something.
A sound.
A memory from childhood.
Someone crying beneath the stairs.
I had forgotten it.
Or maybe I had been made to forget.
I stood abruptly.
“Where is my father?”
Trevor hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
I called him.
No answer.
I called again.
Still nothing.
Then my phone rang.
It was Rosalyn.
I answered.
“Hello?”
Her voice was barely audible.
“You need to listen carefully.”
“Where are you?”
“Don’t ask.”
“What is going on?”
“Your daughter saw something she was never supposed to see.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
Rosalyn inhaled.
Then whispered:
“Your husband isn’t the man you think he is.”
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone.
Trevor stood across from me.
“What did she say?”
I didn’t answer.
Because suddenly I remembered something else.
The night I met Trevor.
The first time he had seen me.
