Avery squinted against the harsh sun, and when the window lowered, she saw him.
The Rescue:
Tom Callahan, Avery’s father. Sixty-two years old, with a face etched by time and a body built for hard work. His hands were rough, like they were made for building things that wouldn’t fall apart. Avery hadn’t expected to see him today, but the moment their eyes met, she knew everything was about to change.
Her dad didn’t speak immediately. Instead, his eyes scanned her—her limping, her sweat-streaked face, the baby in her arms—and then his expression hardened. Avery tried to force a smile, trying to downplay everything as she always did, but it was no use.
“Why are you walking? Where’s your SUV?” he asked, his voice low but filled with an urgency that sent a chill down Avery’s spine.
