When my husband told my daughter, “You have no idea how beautiful your figure is,” I became seriously worried for the first time.
A few weeks later, at a family party, I saw him whisper something into my daughter’s ear.
Then the two of them walked away together.
Five minutes later, I was standing in front of a locked door.
I couldn’t even explain why that one sentence had bothered me so much.
My daughter, Emily, was twenty-four years old.
Daniel was not her biological father, but he had come into our lives when Emily was only nine.
For fifteen years, I had never seen him behave inappropriately toward her.
Quite the opposite.
Daniel always said:
“I may not be her biological father, but if she allows me, I’ll stand beside her as a father for the rest of my life.”
So at first, I tried to forget the strange compliment.
But a week later, something happened again.
Emily had put on a new dress and was standing in front of the mirror.
Daniel looked at her and said:
“That dress looks really good on you. Especially around your hips.”
I was standing in the kitchen.
The glass in my hand literally froze in midair.
