When My Kids Didn’t Show Up, My Neighbor Held My Hand Instead

“No,” I whispered. “I didn’t.”

Ethan’s eyes flicked past me, into my apartment.

And he saw David.

Standing in my kitchen.

Wiping his hands on a towel.

Frozen.

I watched Ethan’s face change the second he saw him.

Suspicion.

Jealousy.

Something sharper.

“Is that him?” Ethan asked.

David didn’t move.

“I’m David,” he said calmly. “I live next door.”

Claire stepped continue reading …