Ashley froze. “Your daughter?” she repeated. “What does that have to do with Bill?” Her voice sounded distant to her own ears. Bill closed his eyes briefly, as if bracing himself. When he opened them, there was no confusion left—only recognition.
“I remember,” Bill said quietly. His voice barely carried. Ashley turned to him, stunned. “Remember what?” she asked. He swallowed hard. “The street. The time. The rain started just before we got into the car.” Each detail landed like a blow she hadn’t seen coming.