Bruce's POV

The townhouse felt like a mausoleum without Beverly and Emma filling it with noise and life. I walked through the rooms that had become too big and too quiet and tried not to count the hours since they left.

Beverly brought Emma back for visits. Brief, scheduled interactions where she handed our daughter over with polite smiles and picked her up later without meeting my eyes for longer than necessary. Professional exchanges between strangers who happened to share a child.

I threw ...