No second family.
No affair.
Mark had been volunteering there every Sunday night for years.
But there was more.
One of the nurses had recognized Emma and quietly told her the
truth.
Mark’s only daughter had spent the final year of her life in that same building.
She had died when she was just twelve.
Afterward, Mark had promised himself that no child there would ever feel forgotten on a Sunday night.
So every week, no matter where he was or who he was with, he left before eight.
That was why the excuses never made sense.
He wasn’t trying to hide another woman.
