By the time they returned to the house on 22nd Avenue in Ballard, the 3 girls squished in the back were tired and Jordan in particular was irritable and frustrated. She bounded out of the car without so much as a thank-you or hug for her Dad (let alone Melissa). Ignoring his calls, she slammed the hardwood front door and stomped into her bedroom.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sally asked as her daughter stormed through the living room to the back of the house.
Soon enough, Sally knew. She could see the shadow of a woman in the fancy black Mercedes – a woman who had not been there when her husband had picked the girls up. That was all the information she needed.
What an audacious prick. She thought.
