The dispatcher spoke again.
“Margaret, officers are on their way. Keep your distance if you can.”
Fabian heard her voice. “You’re really doing this?”
“I’m keeping the children safe.”
He looked toward the bedroom.
For a moment, I thought he might try the door.
Then we heard sirens.
His shoulders dropped.
“You’ve ruined everything,” he muttered.
“No, Fabian. You chose to come here.”
He walked toward the back door, leaving the folder behind.
Two officers met him outside before he reached his truck.
I stayed where I was until an officer came in and told me it was safe to open the bedroom door.
Noah ran straight into my arms.
“Is Daddy angry?”
“He’s talking to the police, sweetheart.”
“Are we in trouble?”
“No.”
He started crying. “I didn’t want to lie.”
I knelt beside him. “What happened?”
He wiped his nose.
“We were going to make Mommy a cake. We got the flour out. Then somebody came in the back door.”
