Across the street an elderly neighbor named Mrs Peck stood behind her living room window. She looked directly at me while I mouthed the words help me, but after a few seconds she simply closed the curtains.
I slowly slid down against the brick wall of the porch and wrapped my arms around my knees while the cold crept deeper into my bones. My father usually returned home from work at six o’clock, which meant I had nearly three hours left to survive.
At least that was what I believed.
Then bright headlights suddenly cut through the rain and a silver pickup truck turned slowly into our driveway. My father Douglas Walsh stepped out of the truck wearing his expensive suit and he froze instantly when he saw me curled on the porch.
His briefcase slipped from his hand and hit the wet pavement with a dull sound. Behind me the front door suddenly unlocked and Tiffany began opening it.
Chapter 2
“David thank goodness you’re home!” Tiffany said quickly while rushing outside with a large white towel. She wrapped the towel around my shoulders while secretly digging her nails into my collarbone where my father could not see the pain on my face.
“She ran outside during a tantrum and refused to come back in,” Tiffany explained with a worried voice. “I was just about to bring her inside when you arrived.”
My father ignored her explanation and dropped to his knees in the rain while grabbing my shoulders gently. “Grace look at me,” he said with concern in his voice.
I tried to answer him but my teeth were chattering too violently from the cold and I could barely form words. He quickly removed his suit jacket and wrapped it around me before lifting me into his arms.
Inside the warm house the pain returned immediately as blood rushed painfully back into my frozen fingers and toes. My father carried me into the kitchen and placed me carefully onto a stool beside the counter.
“Stay here for a minute while I start the hot water in the shower,” he said before turning toward the hallway. However he suddenly stopped walking when he noticed the shattered porcelain plate scattered across the kitchen floor.
Tiffany stepped beside him and sighed softly as if the sight caused her disappointment. “I did not want you to see this tonight because tomorrow is already difficult enough for you,” she said quietly.
Tomorrow was the anniversary of my mother’s death.