Chapter 3 - Carter Finally Understands My Father
Carter’s face emptied.
He knew the name.
Most attorneys in Washington did.
Thomas Bennett had spent decades in federal law enforcement before his
appointment as director.
But Carter had never connected that man to me.
I used my mother’s surname professionally.
Sarah Cole.
Dad never appeared at charity dinners.
He hated publicity.
And after my parents divorced, he lived quietly outside Richmond when he
was not in Washington.
Carter had assumed quiet meant powerless.
“Mr. Bennett,” he stammered.
“Director Bennett,” Eleanor corrected automatically.
Dad’s voice sharpened.
“Neither title matters right now. Sarah needs medical care.”
Carter moved toward me.
I flinched.
Dad heard my breath change.
“Sarah, stay where you are if moving hurts.”
Sirens appeared in the distance.
Carter looked toward the window.
“What did you do?”
Dad replied:
“What you should have done. Called 911.”
Carter ended the call.
Too late.
The front doorbell rang.
Then came a hard knock.
“Alexandria Fire and EMS!”
Eleanor whispered:
May you like
“Don’t open it.”
For the first time in two years, Carter did not obey his mother.
