Chapter 3

"Daddy! Mommy! I'm ready!"

Clara ran out of her room, practically glowing with excitement. Her tiny backpack was stuffed to the brim.

"I brought your favorite juice and some cupcakes," she chortled. "We can eat them when we get tired!"

Donald didn't move from the couch. He remained hunched over his phone, thumbs flying across the screen.

"Let me finish this match," he muttered.

"Okay!" Clara said instantly.

She dragged a tiny stool next to him, cheering every time he scored a point.

One match turned into two.

Two matches turned into two hours.

Donald Williams showed no sign of stopping.

The spark in Clara's eyes slowly died out.

I couldn't stay quiet anymore. "Stop playing. The park will be closed if we leave any later."

"Stop nagging!" Donald snapped. "I work hard all week. My friends asked me to play, so leave me alone."

Before I could reply, his phone chimed. It was the soft ringtone he set exclusively for Valerie.

Donald Williams bolted upright as if an electric current hit him. He abandoned his game without a second thought.

"Valerie, what's wrong?" His voice instantly softened with deep concern.

Sobs came through the speaker.

"I'm so sorry to bother you again, Donald. But Lily had a bad reaction to peanuts. She's crying for you. She refuses to go to the hospital unless you hold her.

"I don't know what to do..."

Clara froze when she heard that voice. She reached out and grabbed her father's sleeve.

She knew the pattern. Every time that woman called, her father vanished.

"Daddy," Clara whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "You promised to take me to the park..."

Donald shoved her hand away without looking at her. He scrambled for his shoes while talking into the phone.

"Don't panic, Valerie. I'm on my way."

"Wait!" I yelled, taking a step forward.

The heavy oak front door slammed shut right in my face, cutting off my words. The loud bang echoed through the silent house.

I grabbed my car keys, determined to chase him down.

Clara tugged on my skirt, holding me back.

"Mommy, Dad is busy," she said, squeezing a tight smile onto her face. It looked far worse than crying. "Can you take me to the park instead?"

I turned my head to hide the fresh tears springing to my eyes.

"Of course, baby. Mommy will take you."

I shouldered her heavy little backpack and drove us to the park.

We scanned our tickets at the front gate. The very first thing we saw near the carousel was Donald Williams and Valerie Thompson.

The little girl who was supposedly dying from a peanut allergy was riding a wooden horse, waving happily at them.

Clara pointed a trembling finger across the crowd. "Mommy... is that Dad?"

I pulled her tight against my side, the truth bitter in my mouth. "Yes, sweetie. That's your dad."

"Donald Williams!" I called out, my voice laced with venom as I marched over.

Before I could reach them, Clara pulled my hand, dragging me toward the exit.

"Dad is busy," she mumbled, her small back stiff and straight as she forced her tiny legs forward. "I want to be a good girl. I won't disturb him."

She walked fast, as if speed could keep the sound of another family's laughter from reaching her ears.

Valerie spotted us anyway.

"Nora!" Valerie called out, waving us over. "You guys came to the park too? Come join us!"

"Donald can watch both of them! One kid or two kids, it makes no difference to him!"

She wrapped her arm intimately around Donald's elbow, acting like the lady of the house inviting guests.

She made me, his lawful wife, and Clara Williams, his real daughter, look like total strangers.

"No, thanks," I said coldly. "We'll stick to ourselves."

Donald strode over, holding Lily on his shoulders, his face dark with annoyance.

"Nora Williams, stop making a scene! She invited you, so just come along."

"Donald Williams, don't you dare, "

Clara tugged my hand gently. "Mommy, please don't fight. We can all play together."

To protect her feelings, I swallowed my rage and agreed.

So-called "playing together" simply meant the two of us walking steps behind them like ghosts.