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“No. Just this one.” He nods and holds up the thickest one. “The rest are from Alessia. She’s been busy.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s kept tabs on Ethan—at least since Paloma came to her at sixteen, through a women’s shelter referral. As usual with offenders like him, where there’s one victim, there’s a trail. So many who came forward, only to be shut down or have their cases closed with no real help. It’s . . . god, Ben. It’s bad.” He shuffles a few of the folders and breathes, head in his hands. “These are all the girls who agreed to come forward, testify—I’m sure there are more we don’t know about and possibly never will.”

My dad sounds furious, angry—never one to hide his emotions. I stay silent, nauseous and unable to think of anything to add.

“Where’s Alessia?”

“She’s sleeping in my room.” Adam sighs. “At least, hopefully. But I doubt she’s gonna sleep until she sets her eyes on Paloma again.” His hands dust over the top of Paloma’s file. “It’s . . . it’s worse than I thought. She’s going to need us, Ben.”

A wave of pure pain buckles my knees. My hands grip onto the counter harshly—enough that I jostle the file and a few loose items fly across the floor.

I reach down but pause and sink to my knees at the small, worn photograph between my thumb and forefinger.

Paloma—I know it’s her, but she can’t be more than five or six years old. She has pigtails and her favorite stuffed rabbit, though in the photo it’s still bright and new, no missing threads or lopsided stuffing. She’s grinning at the camera, but her eyes look almost worried. Like this was the moment things started to change.

I don’t realize I’m crying until my dad’s hand on my arm makes me jump, body sliding away from him with a gasping breath.

He kneels next to me, eyes wide, hands settling on my shoulders. “Breathe, Bennett. Breathe.”

I try to. But I can’t stop feeling it. Seeing it all, over and over again. Her—in her dorm room, trying to make something new. The things she let slip, the small comments that had made me look twice at her, but I’d let them all go. Because I just wanted to be near her. And instead, I’d only caused her more pain.

Because I wasn’t paying attention, to see what was happening. What I allowed to happen.

“It’s not your fault,” my dad says.

My eyes slip into a glare, fury radiating off me, as I push to stand, shoving him away. “Yeah? I brought her face to face with the man who fucking abused her for years and . . . what? I’m just supposed to live with that?”

His eyes shutter, his own torrent of emotions nearly slipping through.

“You have to figure out a way past that guilt, Bennett. You couldn’t have known. She didn’t tell you—”

“She didn’t tell me because she was scared. And I just let it fucking happen.”

“You didn’t—”

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now,” I grit out, almost flushed with the panicked feelings swirling through me. “Just tell me you’re taking care of it.”

He wrestles for a moment over what to say before brushing a hand through his hair. “Yes. Of course, Bennett. I’m doing everything I can to make sure Ethan Marks pays for everything he did. And I’m trying my hardest to keep her out of it.”

My nostrils flare. “You have to. Don’t—please, don’t make her see him again.”

My dad nods, eyes red as he rubs at them again. He looks years’ worth of exhausted. “I’m trying, Bennett. Please . . .” His words trail off. “You have to trust me with this.”

A long silence settles between us, heavy with tension. I nod.

“Do you want some coffee? Or I can clear out of here if you want some space to cook?”

I shake my head.

“All right,” he says, a little stiff. Awkward. Words I’d never use to describe my dad. “I’ll just—I’m going to shower, and I’ll be right back.”

Another wave of guilt rolls through me. A few years ago, it wouldn’t have been like this between us, tension stretching, anxiety swirling. My dad would’ve hugged me already and not second-guessed his instincts when it came to what I needed from him.

But it’s my fault. I did this to us, pushing him away. Making our entire situation wrong and painful.

The same way you did to Paloma, huh?