She froze in the doorway. Just for a second, but I saw it. The way her shoulders tensed, the way her grip tightened on her backpack strap.
“It was fine.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “We did multiplication tables in math.”
“Yeah? That sounds fun.”
“Mm-hmm.” She started toward the stairs. “I have homework.”
“Lily?”
She turned, and I saw fear and guilt in her face.
“Nothing. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
She disappeared up the stairs, and I sat there staring at the space where she’d been, my hands shaking.
Where had my daughter been going for three days? The possibilities that flooded my mind were every parent’s nightmare.
