Though I’m not so sure how long that’s going to last.
Twenty-Eight
Emma
“Emma Nichols?”
I answered the call despite not recognising the number, and something tells me I shouldn’t have.
My mouth is suddenly dry. “Yes? Oh, it’s Emma Baxter now.”
“Okay. But you were Emma Nichols?”
“That’s right.”
“My name is Sophia Cowell. I’m a social worker. We’ve had an anonymous call about your children.”
I nearly fall to my knees.
“My father,” I croak. “He … He said he might do something like this.”
“I’d like to come and see you. Are you home this afternoon?”
I draw in a deep breath. “Yes.”
“I’ll pop in around one thirty if that’s okay. It’ll give us a chance to talk before school ends.”
“That’s fine.”
After confirming our address, we finish the call, and I sit for a moment, an ache in my chest starting.
I pull up Caleb’s number and hit dial.
“Hey, babe.” Just the deep sound of his voice soothes me.
“Caleb? It’s me.”
“Hey, me.” His tone is so warm and flirty, and my heart stutters in response.
“My father. He …” I choke down a sob.
“What’s happened?”
“I got a call. They’re coming over this afternoon. I …”
“I’ll be home in about ten minutes. Okay?”
“Okay.” I sniff.
His threat felt very real, but I’d almost managed to convince myself that he wouldn’t do it. He’s the only person who could have made allegations.
My heart thuds, and I close my eyes in an effort to calm myself.
That’s how Caleb finds me, curled up on the couch.
“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling me upright and into his arms.
I keep my eyes firmly shut, wishing the world away as he runs his hand down my spine.
