She had already booked her return ticket, cutting the trip short.
Carlos must’ve told her I was back.
They weren’t far. It would only take them just over an hour to return.
Right after I received the update on Alice’s itinerary, her call came through.
Her voice, usually cold and distant, was suddenly sweet and syrupy. This shift wasn’t lost on me, guilt. She knew she had wronged me and was now overcompensating.
“Honey, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”
I didn’t waste time with small talk. I asked, “Do you know what happened to our daughter?”
Alice continued to play dumb.
“What do you mean? Isn’t she doing just fine?”
I had already made up my mind. If she confessed, admitted her wrongs, maybe I’d show some mercy.
But since she insisted on this act, mercy was no longer an option.
