Chapter 2: The Teddy Bear’s Fall
The heavy oak front door creaked, then swung open with a suddenness that made Evelyn flinch. Mark, Sophie’s father, stood in the threshold. He looked exhausted, his suit rumpled from a long flight back from Seattle. In his hand, he held a plush white teddy bear—a gift he’d promised Sophie weeks ago.
He froze. The air in the hallway felt different. It wasn't the welcoming warmth of a home; it was the pressurized tension of a courtroom. Mark looked at his daughter, then at his wife, sensing the electric, silent friction between them.
"I'm home," Mark said, his voice dropping as he tried to bridge the gap. He frowned, his eyes narrowing at the way Evelyn hastily set her wine glass on the narrow side table, her hand shaking just enough to cause a tiny ring of condensation to mar the mahogany.
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Evelyn, the mask of the perfect, composed wife, snapped back into place. Her expression, which had been tight with panic, forced itself into a saccharine, wide-eyed smile. "My dear! You... you didn't tell me your flight was early. You caught us completely by surprise."
But Mark wasn't looking at her smile. He was looking at Sophie. His daughter’s face was pale, her eyes enormous and rimmed with a glassy, desperate panic. He took a step toward her, his instinct for his child overriding his exhaustion.
