The Walkie-Talkie That Exposed Everything I Gave Away

Last Wednesday night, I came home after a 10-hour shift. My feet ached, my back throbbed, and I collapsed into my old recliner with a long sigh. Then, suddenly, static crackled from the walkie-talkie on my apron.

“Daddy, are you there?” Max’s sleepy voice drifted through. I smiled at the sound, thinking of him safely tucked in bed. But then I heard other voices.

Adult voices. Lila’s laugh—sharp and calculated. “Honestly, Thomas, we should rent out her spare bedroom.