I stared at the screen.
At first, I tried to find an innocent explanation.
Perhaps it was a colleague. Perhaps it was someone arranging a surprise. Perhaps I had misunderstood the tone.
Then another message appeared.
“I hate pretending to be just your daughter’s friend. When will you finally tell her the truth about us?”
My hands went cold.
I looked toward the back door.
Daniel was still outside, humming an old song he used to sing when we first started dating.
I picked up the phone.
For several seconds, I hesitated. I knew that once I opened the conversation, I might discover something I could never unknow.
But the message had already changed everything.
I opened it.
The name at the top of the conversation was Sofia Bennett.
Our daughter’s friend.
The young woman who had attended family dinners, borrowed my recipes, and once spent an entire afternoon helping me choose flowers for a birthday party.
