That’s good news.” Logan was sitting in a hospital room, holding Charlie’s hand—the one not propped on a pillow and ice pack—while a police officer waited outside the room to question him. About an assault charge. Filed by his father-in-law. Sorry if good news felt like a stretch. “What’s that mean exactly, an incomplete fracture?” The doctor turned off the light on the X-ray viewer. “It means the bone didn’t break completely. Children have softer, more flexible bones than adults—sometimes they bend and crack instead of breaking. She’ll still need a cast, but probably only for four or five weeks.” Charlie whimpered, and he lifted his other hand to smooth her curls. Oh, baby. . . . Her My Little Pony nightgown had still been wet from her own tears when he’d arrived. “In other words,”
