Ensconced in the storm-darkened, womblike comfort of his room, Lou reflected on the many times he had urgently raced to get Emily out of the water before a thunderstorm. The memory brought a tired smile, and he picked up his cell phone. She would do most of the talking, which was good, but he really needed to hear her voice, to know she was at home in Virginia, and most important of all that she, like the children from the pool, was safe.

The balcony door was open, allowing a fresh breeze stirred up by the impending storm to cool down his stuffy room. He checked to be sure there was no rain blowing in on the carpet, then sat on the edge of his bed and dialed her cell.

One minute they’re crawling and the next they’re on your data plan.

That would be his quote to his daughter after her firstborn.

“Daddy!” Emily squealed.

“Hey, baby girl.” Her voice was a symphony. “How’s my favorite chiquita in the universe? I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Daddy. How’s it going? How’s Cap?”

“He’s okay, sweetheart. He’s hanging in there.”

“That means he’s not doing so good.”

“It’s a bad infection, but you know how much strength and courage he has. He’s going to do all right.”

Lou fought back a sudden swell of emotion. His heart filled with uncontainable love for his daughter. It was right for him to have caved into Vaill and McCall’s grilling and threats. He could not imagine being locked up in a cell somewhere, kept away from her and shielded from the fullness of what her life would become.

“Dad, are you okay?” Emily asked.

He’d gone quiet for too long.

“Yeah, sweetie. Tell me about you. What have you been up to?”

Just talk to me … I need to hear your voice.

“I’m doing everything I can think of to raise more money for Cap,” she said. “It’s going great. I mean, we’ve still got a long way to go, but people are really rallying behind me.”

“Is General Mills still contributing?”

“They are!” she announced with pride. “In addition to the five hundred they’re donating, they’re also sending all sorts of mixes so we can have a big bake sale. The street team has been picking up steam, and my fund-raising sites have raised over two thousand dollars so far.”

“Two thousand,” Lou repeated. “That’s wonderful! Congratulations, honey. Well done. Very well done!”

“Thanks, Dad. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, kitten. I’m just a little—”

A sharp knock on the door interrupted him.

“Lou, it’s Vaill,” he heard the urgent, somewhat muffled voice say. “We gotta talk.”

“Sweetheart, let me call you right back.”

Lou got up from the bed.

“Okay, Daddy, I love you.”