“Dad?” I whispered.
“Anna?” My father’s voice was sharp. “Anna, why are you calling from this number? Why are you crying?”
“Dad…” A sob broke my composure. “They hurt me. David and his mother. Sylvia pushed me. I fell… I’m bleeding, Dad. There’s so much blood. I think… I think the baby’s gone.”
The silence on the other end of the line was absolute. It was an emptiness.
David looked at me, confused. “Why are you telling her that? She can’t help you.”
Then the voice returned. But it wasn’t a father’s voice anymore. It was God’s voice.
“David Miller,” my father said.
David jumped. “Yes?”
“This is the Chief Justice of the United States, William Thorne.”
