“Dad… please come home. I can’t do this anymore. My back hurts so bad.”
The trembling voice of nine-year-old Emma Carter crackled through the phone, cutting straight through her father’s boardroom meeting in downtown Chicago.
Daniel Carter, a successful executive, froze mid-discussion. Something in her tone—raw, desperate—sent a chill down his spine.
“Emma, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Why does your back hurt?”
“I’ve been carrying Oliver all day,” she whispered, fighting tears. “He won’t stop crying… and Stephanie says it’s my job to take care of him while she rests.”
