Caleb’s cries filled the nursery like an alarm no one could silence. His tiny hands clutched at Irene’s blouse as she rocked him, her voice low and steady. She didn’t hear Victor Marston’s footsteps until the nursery door slammed open.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His voice was sharp, cold, and close enough to make her heart jolt. She looked up, startled, but before she could speak, his palm struck her cheek. The sound echoed in the small room. Caleb’s wail rose even higher.
It had started months earlier, when Irene Lawson stepped off the bus in Brook Hollow, clutching a worn leather bag and a letter of employment. She had nowhere else to go. Her husband had been gone for almost a year—taken by an accident no one in her hometown wanted to talk about anymore. She’d left behind a cramped apartment, unpaid bills, and the….Read Full Story Here………………….
