My daughter whispered, “Dad, help,” and the line went d.ead. I drove at 100 mph to her in-laws’ mansion
My phone lit up at 9:17 p.m. “Dad?” Emily’s voice was barely a whisper. It didn’t sound like her. My daughter had always been warm, steady, the one who smoothed things over. “Dad… please help—” Then the line went dead. No argument in the background. No shouting. Just silence. I didn’t think. I grabbed…
