Lottie stumbled through the door, her face etched with exhaustion. Days of relentless visits to the jail had taken a toll on her, physically and emotionally. She had spent countless hours pleading with officials, desperately trying to secure Jeff's release to no avail.
As she entered the living room, the first thing she saw was Brooke, lounging on the couch, engrossed in a magazine. Her heart sank. Her daughter had been oblivious to the turmoil that had engulfed their family. Even Lyse had maintained a cold front, refusing to intervene or even visit Jeff and show a bit of sympathy.
"Brooke," Lottie said, her voice barely a whisper. "Have you heard from your father?"
Brooke looked up, her expression indifferent then she shrugged. "No, not really," she replied, her tone dismissive. "Why? Is something wrong?"
