“What is going on here, Dad?”
Daniel’s question hung in the kitchen.
Nobody answered.
Mr. Hale stepped away from me, adjusting his clothes as if he had merely been interrupted during an ordinary conversation. I stumbled away from the counter and pulled up my shorts with shaking hands.
My face burned. I couldn’t look at Daniel, but I could feel his eyes moving between his father and me.
“Daniel,” Mr. Hale said firmly, “this isn’t what you think.”
Daniel let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Really? Then explain what I just walked in on.”
His father straightened his shirt. “You don’t understand the situation.”
“Then help me understand it.”
“Lower your voice.”
“Why? Afraid Ethan will hear us?”
My stomach twisted at the mention of my husband’s name.
I grabbed the bottle of water from
