Chapter 9
“Danny? It’s three in the morning on Christmas,” David groaned. Then, hearing the edge in my voice, his tone shifted. “Give me two hours.”
I sat by the window, watching the snow bury our car, waiting. I’d spent my life trying to be a good son. I was about to find out what it meant to be a dangerous father.
At 5:15, the phone rang.
“Daniel,” David said, all the sleep gone from his voice. “I don’t know what happened tonight, but you need to sit down. Custody is the least of your worries.
May you like
I just looked into Rob’s clinic and Vanessa’s LLCs.”
“What did you find?”
