Chapter 6 - WESTON COMES TO THE DOOR At 9:40 p.m., Weston knocked.
Not rang.
Knocked softly.
I checked the doorbell camera.
Opened the door only halfway.
“Cecily is asleep.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“You texted my sister.”
I had.
His older sister Erin lived in North Carolina.
I needed somebody from his family to know before Harlan built a counterstory.
Weston looked exhausted.
“Can I come in?”
“No.”
He swallowed.
“Okay.”
That surprised me.
Then:
“I need to tell you what I knew.”
“Do it.”
He looked toward the door.
“Dad started taking toys when she was four.”
My stomach tightened.
“A year?”
“Not constantly.”
“How comforting.”
“He said she was becoming dependent on comfort objects.”
“Did a doctor say that?”
“No.”
“A teacher?”
“No.”
“Anyone qualified?”
“No.”
“Then why did you let him decide?”
Weston looked away.
“He raised me.”
“That is not an answer.”
“He thought we were making Cecily fragile.”
“We.”
“You and me.”
I stared at him.
“He thought I was too soft.”
“And you agreed.”
May you like
Weston said nothing.
There was the silence again.
