His stomach jittered like it had the day Kat was born. He felt all the same crazy emotions at the prospect of seeing her again now, and dreaded the drastic measures he’d have to take to actually get Seth to let her go. The thought of his lifelong friend explaining the loss of Kat to his wife made Teague sick to his stomach. He tossed bacon in the microwave, telling himself he had to do what he had to do. Kat was his daughter. His life. He’d been there for her first diaper rash, her first smile, her first ear infection, her first tooth, her first steps, her first words, her first tantrum. All while trying to keep his career intact and managing Suzanna’s medications and ultimate hospitalizations. Teague’s mind drifted back to the night before, to the man who’d been at the motel, the same one who’d caught his eye at the pet store, rekindling ugly memories. Lingering questions resurfaced. Suzanna had been struggling with depression for a long time, but she’d gotten progressively worse after that warehouse fire.
