The school called. “Your daughter hasn’t been pick…

crack.

No.

No.

It was common enough. It could have been coincidence. The world produces coincidences so extreme they make superstition look rational.

But my body knew before my mind was willing to say it.

“Who usually picks you up from school?” I asked.

“Daddy.”

“What’s his name?”

She looked up at me with my own green eyes.

“Daniel,” she said.

The room did not continue reading …