Then, at twenty-three, instead of pursuing his PhD abroad as planned, he'd suddenly chosen to marry into the Pruitt family.
He'd abandoned his studies. Abandoned his career. Devoted himself entirely to being a husband and father.
He'd vanished from the public eye.
A rising star, extinguished without a sound.
Screech!
Tires shrieked against asphalt. White smoke billowed as the Range Rover lurched to a stop at the roadside.
Margery's Maserati shot past, barely missing it.
Why had he stopped so suddenly?
She pulled over too, parking just ahead of his hood.
Inside the Range Rover, Wilfred's phone was ringing.
"Hello, is this Mr. Dickerson? I'm the homeroom teacher at your daughter's preschool." A sweet, gentle voice came through the speaker.
Wilfred recognized Ms. Perry.
"Yes, Ms. Perry. What's going on?"
"Mr. Dickerson, I'm so glad I reached you. Here's the situation: your older daughter Hilary brought a bag of honey buns to school this morning. She shared them with her classmates, and now several children have food poisoning—vomiting, diarrhea, the works. The parents are all here demanding an explanation."
Honey buns?