Chapter 2: The Envelope on the Table
The house was spotless.
Silent.
No crying.
No bottles in the sink.
No laundry piled on the couch.
And I was seated calmly at the kitchen table — dressed, rested, and waiting for him.
Julian looked around the room like he'd walked into the wrong house.
"Where are the girls?" he asked.
"Safe," I said.
"With people who actually wanted to be there."
He stepped closer.
"What does that mean?
Where are my daughters?"
I slid a folded envelope across the table toward him.
He picked it up slowly.
His hands weren't steady anymore.
"I spent four days making phone calls," I said.
"To a lawyer.
To my mother.
And to yours."
His face changed.
"Your mother cried, Julian.
She said she had no idea how bad things had gotten.
She's had the girls since yesterday morning.
They're fed, they're warm, and they're loved."
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"You told me to act like a mother," I said.
"So I did.
I protected my daughters from a home where their father thinks a fishing trip matters more than they do."
He set the envelope down without opening it.
"What is this?" he asked quietly.
I looked at him for a long moment.
"Read it."
The color drained from his face as his eyes moved down the first page.
---
What was inside that envelope — and what did Julian do next?
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