“Fuck!” Davis cursed under his breath.Everything happened at once.He pulled back sharply, grabbing for his shirt while Chelsea scrambled in panic, her fingers shaking so badly she could barely gather her clothes. She curled into herself on the desk, trying to shield her body, her heart slamming violently against her ribs.“Dad!” she cried, her voice breaking.He stood amidst the spilled cleaning fluid and the hollow clatter of plastic, his face a mask of gray, transfixed horror. His eyes—wide, horrified, disbelieving—moved from Davis to Chelsea and back again. "Chelsea..." his voice was a ghost of itself, hollow and thin. "I can't believe this.""No, Dad... please..." Tears tracked hot paths through the flush on her cheeks. "Dad, wait!"But he didn't wait. He turned numbly on his heels, his movements robotic, and walked away from the open door, leaving his tools abandoned on the floor like a casualty of war.“Dad!” she cried again, louder this time, scrambling off the desk.She fu
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