I knew my daughter.
I knew when she was lying.
“Did something happen between you and Rick?” I finally asked.
For a second, her expression changed.
It was almost fear.
Then she looked away.
“Just leave it alone.”
I didn’t.
Not completely.
But I didn’t push as hard as I should have.
Rick told me not to pressure her.
“She’s eighteen,” he said. “You’re getting married. That’s a huge change for her.”
It sounded reasonable.
It sounded exactly like something a loving stepfather might say.
So I believed him.
That decision would haunt me later.
On the morning of our wedding, Anna said she was sick.
She refused to come.
I knew something wasn’t right.
I wanted to stay home.
I wanted to sit beside my daughter and ask what was really happening.
But Rick convinced me to give her space.
“She needs time,” he said.
