I’d protect my daughter with every dollar I had, every acre of land, every ounce of stubborn old-man willpower, for as long as I lived.
And if I’d learned anything from the whole twisted saga of Tyler Hutchinson, it was that sometimes the most loving thing you can do for someone you care about is to quietly build a life that gives them room to make mistakes—and a way to climb out of them.
Claire slipped her arm through mine as the first stars blinked into view overhead.
“I love you, Dad,” she said.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” I replied.
And for once, with the garden blooming wild around us and Linda’s name solid behind our backs, love felt not like a risk, but like the safest investment I’d ever made.
