Avery was halfway through reviewing patrol reports when his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
The moment he saw Felicia’s name, a smile automatically appeared on his face.
Then he answered.
“Hey, Fel—”
The words died immediately.
Because she was crying.
Not speaking.
Not explaining.
Just crying.
The sound hit him like a punch to the chest.
Avery was already on his feet before he realized it.
“Felicia?”
No answer.
Only more crying.
His heart immediately dropped.
In the five years he had known her, he had seen Felicia cry very few times.
She cried during the birth of the sextuplets.
She cried when one of the children got seriously sick.
She cried on the anniversary of her banishment.
But outside of those moments, Felicia rarely allowed herself to fall apart.
She was
