So strong.
He didn’t say he didn’t throw it.
He said he didn’t want to throw it so hard.
My dad arrived shortly after midnight.
He had disheveled hair, a bad jacket on and an empty folder under his arm.
He kissed Lily’s forehead without touching the gauze.
Then he sat down with me and started ordering everything.
Screenshots.
Photos.
Voice messages.
Names of witnesses.
Arrival time to hospital.
Name of the doctor.
Name of the social worker.
Type of injury.
At 1:07 a.m., my dad wrote the timeline on a sheet.
At 1:32 a.m., Ethan sent a message to Mark.
Just saying, “Tell me the truth. Did you see Vanessa blow up the cup?”
Mark took sixteen minutes to respond.
His message was short.
“Yes.”
Then he wrote another sentence.
“And I’m sorry.”
Ethan dropped the phone on his legs.
He didn’t cry hard.
