His entire body stiffened, and just like that, the anger dissolved into something softer. The moment his gaze landed on her—his little girl standing in the dim glow of the hallway, rubbing her sleepy eyes.
This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to see this. She was too young for this kind of chaos, too pure to witness the wreckage of the adults around her.
Vivian turned her head toward the tiny figure in the doorway, and a chill ran down her spine. Her mouth went dry as realization slammed into her like a freight train.
The child, standing in her pastel-colored pajamas, looked almost like a mirror image of Christopher—his strong jawline, his sharp nose, even the way her tiny lips pouted in confusion. But her eyes…
Vivian’s breath caught in her throat. Those weren’t Christ
