The drive home felt endless.
Stephanie ignored every call.
When Daniel pushed open the front door, the sound hit him first—a baby wailing… dishes clattering.
Then he saw it.
The kitchen was a disaster. Dirty plates piled everywhere. Food crusted on the counters. Trash overflowing.
And in the middle of it stood Emma.
Tiny. Exhausted.
Her little brother tied to her back with a bedsheet like some makeshift harness.
Her hands shook as she washed dishes.
Her shoulders sagged under the weight.
“Dad…” she whispered when she saw him.
He rushed forward, untying the cloth with shaking hands. The moment Oliver was free, Emma nearly collapsed.
