done?”

Ryan said nothing.

Then I said, “Emma told me she doesn’t trust you anymore.”

His face went pale. “She said that?”

“Yes.”

“She’s seven. She doesn’t understand what she’s saying.”

“Don’t decide she doesn’t mean it because you don’t like hearing it.”

He went still.

I asked, “What did Travis confront you about?”

Ryan’s eyes shifted.

“He stuck his nose into our parenting.”

“How?”

“Do you always have to do that?” Ryan snapped. “Is it really asking so much to expect you to trust me, your husband?”

I stared at him for a long moment.

Then I pulled out my phone and called someone.

“I need you to come over, please. Now,” I said.

I hung up.

“Who was that?” Ryan asked, his voice laced with urgency.

“Someone who I hope will give me the answers you won’t.”

—

Ten minutes later, Travis stood inside our doorway while Ryan glared