Sophie glanced at the stairs and lowered her voice. “Every night after he left the hospital, Dad didn’t come home. He drove somewhere else, and he took me with him the first two times.” My heart pounded. “Where, sweetheart?” She swallowed hard. “To a gray house with a blue door. A lady lives there, and Dad told me never to tell you.”

Upstairs, a drawer slammed, and footsteps crossed the ceiling. Sophie squeezed my hand harder. “Mom, she isn’t what you think. But Dad lied about why we went.” I gripped the back of my chair, my pelvis aching, and watched the stairs. Then Graham’s voice drifted down, calm and cheerful. “Honey, did you want your pills up here?”