But in that moment, the truth shattered every excuse I'd built.
A child's laughter drifted from the yard.
A long table had been set up on the lawn, covered end to end with cake and presents and snacks.
David Delgado was crouching on the grass, a little boy cradled in his arms.
The boy wore a tiny blue suit, his cheeks puffed out as he leaned toward the candles on the cake.
A woman stood beside them. Long hair spilling over her shoulders, a white dress, clapping her hands with a bright smile.
"One, two, three..."
My nails dug into my palms.
Today was the third anniversary of my child's death.
And he was here, celebrating another child's third birthday.
"Good job! Pete's the best!"
The woman bent down and kissed the boy's cheek.
David had his arm around the child, grinning so wide his eyes crinkled at the corners.
That kind of smile. I hadn't seen it on his face in a long time.
"Daddy, I made a wish!"
The little boy tipped his head back, his voice soft and milky.
"What did you wish for?"
"I want Daddy and Mommy to be with me every single day!"
David pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"Daddy promises."
Daddy.
I could hear my own breathing, ragged and heavy, like a person drowning.
My hands were shaking.
Every instinct screamed at me to charge in there and demand answers, to flip that table over, to ask him what our child had ever meant to him.
But I didn't move.
Because I knew David Delgado too well.
If I stormed in now, I'd be met with a thousand explanations.
"You're misunderstanding."
"She's a client's daughter."
"The boy belongs to a friend. We're just watching him."
He would find a hundred different ways to turn my fury into hysteria.
I pulled out my phone.
My hands were still shaking, but the lens held steady.
I aimed it at the garden.
Six photos. Then a video.
David smeared frosting from the cake onto the boy's nose. The boy giggled. The woman leaned in and wiped his face clean.
A family of three.
I hit stop.
My phone buzzed.
A message from David.
"Ellie, don't wait up for me. Might have to pull an all-nighter tonight. Make sure you eat something. Get some rest."
An all-nighter.
Right. A beautiful evening, the whole family together. Of course it would be an all-nighter.
My hands and feet went ice-cold. My stomach turned inside out. I dropped to my knees on the side of the road and threw up until the world went dark around the edges.
When I turned to walk back, I didn't cry.