I pulled my wrist free and went upstairs. Avery was in her room, headphones on, bent over her homework. She looked up when I opened the door and smiled like everything was normal.
“Hey, Dad. You okay? You look pale.”
I couldn’t speak for a second. I just stood there, trying to reconcile the girl in front of me with the figure in that video.
“She’s 16.
You can’t keep pretending she’s perfect.”
Finally, I managed, “Avery, have you been in my room when I wasn’t home?”
Her smile faded. “What?”
“Just answer me.”
She sat up straighter, defensive now. “No. Why would I?”
My hands were shaking. “Something’s missing from my safe.”
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