My heart began pounding.
“Maisie, what’s in the pool?”
Her eyes filled instantly.
“Daddy…”
She buried her face against me.
“Don’t look at the pool.”
Behind us, a door opened.
I turned.
Adrian stood on the patio.
Pressed shirt.
Clean jeans.
Perfectly combed hair.
For a man whose three-year-old stepdaughter had just been found locked in a cage, he looked remarkably calm.
His eyes moved from me…
to Maisie…
to the broken padlock.
Something changed in his expression.
Not surprise.
Calculation.
“What are you doing here, Ethan?”
I tightened my arms around my daughter.
“What am I doing here?”
He stepped onto the grass.
“You’re trespassing.”
“My daughter was locked in a cage.”
“You don’t understand the situation.”
“Then explain it.”
Maisie peeked over my shoulder.
The moment she saw Adrian, her fingers tightened around my shirt.
He noticed.
So did I.
“Déjala”, dijo Adrian.
Le miré fijamente.
“No.”
Su expresión calmada finalmente se resquebrajó.
“Ethan.”
Di un paso atrás.
Maisie empezó a temblar.
“Déjala.”
Metí la mano en el bolsillo.
Adrian bajó la mirada hacia mi mano.
Saqué el móvil.
Y llamé al 112.
