My daughter-in-law always hid her hands and back—until a beach trip revealed the truth she had been carrying all along.

down both arms, disappearing beneath the swimsuit she’d chosen even for the beach.

The skin on the backs of her hands was marked too, fine and shiny in patches, the kind of scars that had been there for years.

My throat closed.

Ben reached her in two strides, snatched up the towel, and wrapped it around her so quickly it looked practiced.

He turned to continue reading …