“Put my daughter on the phone. Immediately.”
The voice on the other end of the line was calm.
Too calm.
It wasn’t the voice of a man asking a question.
It was the voice of someone who already knew something was terribly wrong.
Carter stared at the phone.
For the first time that night, the arrogance disappeared from his face.
“Who is this?” he asked.
There was a pause.
Then the voice answered.
“This is Robert Hayes.”
Carter froze.
Mrs. Eleanor’s expression changed.
Because everyone in Washington knew that name.
Robert Hayes wasn’t some retired businessman from a small town.
He wasn’t some ordinary man driving an old pickup truck.
He was a highly respected federal official who had spent decades building a reputation for integrity, discipline, and justice.
But more importantly—
He was my father.
And he had spent his entire life protecting people who couldn’t protect themselves.
Especially his daughter.
“Where is Claire?” my father asked.
Carter looked at me.
For once, he had nothing clever to say.
“She’s… she’s here.”
“Put her on the phone.”
Carter hesitated.
That hesitation told my father everything.
“Now.”
Slowly, Carter handed me the phone.
My fingers were shaking so badly I could barely hold it.
“Dad…”
The moment he heard my voice, his tone changed.
Not weaker.
Not afraid.
But filled with a pain only a parent could understand.
“Sweetheart, tell me exactly what happened.”
I looked across the kitchen.
At Carter.
At his mother.
At the broken phone on the floor.
At the blood.
And something inside me finally broke.
“I’m hurt,” I whispered.
Silence.
A dangerous silence.
Then my father spoke.
“Are you alone?”
“No.”
“Is your husband there?”
I looked at Carter.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Give the phone back to him.”
I handed it over.
Carter forced himself to stand tall.
He tried to recover his confidence.