Jonathan Walker felt the air grow heavy in his lungs.
He knelt beside Sophie, never taking his eyes off Monica, his glamorous new wife. Gently, he took his daughter’s small hands in his own. Thin scratches marked her skin—superficial, but fresh. There were too many of them to be dismissed as a simple accident.
“My princess… what happened?” Jonathan asked softly. His voice was calm, but the tension in his jaw betrayed the storm building inside him.
Sophie looked up at him, her lower lip trembling. Then, almost instinctively, her eyes flicked toward Monica—as if she were asking permission to speak without realizing it.
That single glance was enough.
Jonathan slowly rose to his feet.
“I’m going to check the cameras,” he said quietly.
Monica felt a chill ripple down her spine.
“The cameras? Jonathan, you’re overreacting…” she said with a nervous laugh.
But Jonathan was already walking toward his private office.