"Finish it."

The words stopped Ethan Cole before both of his shoes had crossed the kitchen threshold.

He had come home forty minutes early because a client canceled dinner. He still had his suit jacket on, his phone in one hand, and the dull headache that came with twelve hours of meetings.

Then he saw his five-year-old daughter bent over the kitchen island.

Sophie was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

In front of her sat a stainless-steel dog bowl.

Brown kibble floated in gray wet food.

There were crumbs stuck to Sophie's lips.

Vanessa, Ethan's fiancée, stood beside her with one hand flat on the marble counter.

"I said finish it," Vanessa repeated.

Sophie lowered her face toward the bowl.

"Daddy..."

Ethan's phone hit the floor.

He crossed the kitchen in three steps, lifted Sophie into his arms, and felt her lock both arms around his neck.

"Hey. Hey, I'm here. Look at me."

She buried her face against him.

Ethan stared at the food smeared around her mouth, then at the bowl.

For a second his mind refused to name what he was seeing.

"What did you make her eat?"

Vanessa's expression changed. Not guilt. Annoyance.

"Don't start, Ethan. She threw her lunch on the floor. She needed to learn that food isn't a game."

"That's dog food."

"It's food. She wasn't going to die from one bite."

Ethan's jaw tightened.

Sophie began shaking against him.

"One bite?" he asked.

Vanessa folded her arms. "You're never here. You don't understand what she's like when you're gone."

Ethan looked down at his daughter.

"Sophie. Did she make you eat this?"

The little girl lifted her face. Her blue eyes were swollen and wet.

She pointed weakly at the bowl.

"She makes me eat it when you're gone."

Everything inside Ethan went still.

Vanessa laughed once, sharp and humorless. "She's five. She says things."

Sophie flinched at Vanessa's voice.

That tiny movement frightened Ethan more than the bowl.

He carried Sophie toward the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Vanessa demanded.

"Away from you."

"Ethan, don't be ridiculous."

He stopped and looked back.

"Pack a bag."

Her face finally changed.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Vanessa took one step forward. "This is my home too."

"No. It's my house. And until I know exactly what happened to my daughter, you are not coming near her."

Sophie tightened her grip around his neck.

Then she whispered something into his ear so softly he almost missed it.

"Daddy... don't let her open the basement door."

Ethan looked toward the dark hallway leading downstairs.

Vanessa went pale.