CHAPTER 152

Father’s Day

“Today is Father’s Day,” John whispered, his nose still bleeding, his eyes darting nervously around the schoolyard.

Lydia’s stomach dropped. She stared at him, not understanding at first. “What?”

“Everyone’s bringing their dads. There’s games… speeches… food.” John’s voice trailed off. “Don’t you know?”

Her throat tightened. She hadn’t known. No one told her. Her hands balled into fists as she looked around. Children clung to their fathers, laughing, playing. Some were lifted high in the air. Others clutched packed lunches made by both parents.

But not hers.

Her chest ached. Why don’t I have one?

The bell rang, cutting through the chatter. Sister Mary clapped...