Greg reached for Callie’s package.
His hands shook—noticeably. He tried to hide it, but I saw. Lila leaned closer, curious, probably assuming it was from one of us. I held my breath as he opened it.
The instant he lifted the lid, something inside him broke open.
The color drained from his face.
Tears filled his eyes so quickly he couldn’t stop them. They spilled down his cheeks in long, silent streams. His body went completely still, as if time itself had paused.
“I have to go,” he whispered, his voice frayed.
“Dad?” Lila asked, confused. “What happened?”
“Greg,” I said, fighting panic, “where are you going? It’s Christmas. What about our family?”
He didn’t answer.
“Dad?”
He stood suddenly, still clutching the box. Then he knelt, gently cupped Lila’s face, and kissed her forehead.
“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Dad has to take care of something urgent, okay? I promise I’ll be back.”
She nodded, but fear flickered in her eyes as she hugged her stuffed animal tighter.
Greg hurried toward our bedroom. I followed, my heart racing.
“What’s going on?” I asked, blocking the doorway. “You’re scaring me.”