We thought we were losing Nora to secrecy, whispers, and a man twice her age who just seemed to slip into her life wordlessly. Every gift, envelope, and evasive smile hurt us more. And when neighbors began to gossip, our dread grew unbearable.
Martin was ready to storm out, confront the man face-to-face, and demand answers. I begged him to wait. Our daughter’s life felt balanced on a knife’s edge, one wrong move enough to shatter her trust. But even as we argued, Nora’s eyes pleaded: “Not yet. If you knew now, it would ruin everything.”
What could she possibly mean? Why was she protecting him with such ferocity when every instinct told us he was the danger? We had built our worst-case scenarios in silence, yet none of them fit the strange, deliberate secrecy she wrapped herself in. The unknowing was the unkindest cut of all.