Sofia glanced toward the front door the way someone might look toward the sky—hoping a miracle might appear.
But miracles never seemed to arrive.
Tears streamed freely down her face. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. Then, in a voice so faint it was nearly lost in the air, she whispered words that could freeze the blood of anyone who heard them:
“I can’t take it anymore…”
What nobody realized was that at that exact moment, a key was sliding into the lock of the front door.
Nathan Torres had abruptly canceled his final meeting in Cancún, though he couldn’t quite explain why. A strange heaviness had settled in his chest. Something deep inside him said that something was wrong.
In his hand, he carried a small gift wrapped in bright pink paper. He pictured his daughter running into his arms the moment he stepped through the door.
But when the door opened, there was no laughter.
No cheerful cry of “Dad!”
Only silence.
A suffocating silence.
Nathan placed his briefcase down and walked slowly through the hallway.
Then he heard it.
A quiet sob.
He quickened his pace.