BRANDON
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When I pulled up at my parents’ house, I saw Charlotte through the window. She was sitting cross-legged, crayons scattered around her as she focused on her coloring book.
She looked peaceful and innocent, completely oblivious to the web of lies that had been built around her. Gianna was right. I needed to keep her this way for a while longer. I needed to protect her for as long as I could.
I stood there, watching her for a moment before I knocked on the door and opened it to step inside.
Charlotte looked up when she heard me, her face lighting up immediately. “Daddy!” She squealed, running over to hug my legs.
“Hey sweetheart,” I bent down to scoop her up. “You ready to go home?”
“I’m almost done coloring. We can go after I’m done.” She pointed to her book on the floor.
