My 6-year-old granddaughter phoned me in panic just after midnight. “Mommy says the baby is coming! Help!” I asked, “Where’s daddy?” She answered, “He k!cked mommy’s tummy and left.”…..

The digital clock flashed 12:47 a.m. in harsh red numbers.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the screen, still caught halfway in a dream, until he recognized Cassidy’s house number and jerked upright so fast the blanket slid from his shoulders. Nobody called from his daughter’s house after midnight unless something was terribly wrong. Cassidy knew he slept lightly, but she also knew he lived seventy miles outside town and would always answer, no matter the hour.

“Kane,” he muttered, voice rough from sleep.

For a brief second, there was only static and sobbing.

Then his granddaughter’s voice broke through, tiny, shaky, and terrified in a way that erased every trace of exhaustion from his body.

“Papa?”

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