“I’m not calm. I followed your father for twenty miles. I sat in my car and watched Jenna arrive at that hotel. I filmed them because I knew that if I confronted them without proof, they might look me straight in the eyes and tell me I was imagining things.”
Daniel’s anger faltered.
For the first time, he seemed to understand that I hadn’t discovered this five minutes before calling him.
I had been carrying it alone.
He sat down again, slowly, and stared at the ground.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then he asked a question that would haunt me for months.
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you know before tonight?”
“No. I suspected your father was hiding something. I didn’t know it was Jenna.”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“Why would he do this to us?”
I had no answer.
I thought about the Sunday dinners, the family photographs, the wedding speeches, and the years Mark had spent telling Daniel that a man’s greatest responsibility was to protect his family.
