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ripped the receiver from her hand.
My Four-Year-Old Called Grandpa After My Husband Broke My Leg
But the call had connected.
A voice came through the speaker.
Low.
Controlled.
Familiar.
“Lily.”
My father.
Daniel went pale.
“Lily,” my father said again. “Go into the pantry. Close the door. Sit behind the flour bin. Now.”
For one second, no one moved.
Then Lily obeyed.
The pantry door clicked shut.
Safe.
