“The screams were coming from the tennis courts, and he raced in that direction. Caridad, also summoned by the sound of the little girl’s calls, was right behind him. “Help! Daddy! Help!” He would have been the first to admit that his daughter had a tendency to melodrama and that she did everything at full volume. But he’d learned to tell from the tone of her cries whether she was sad or frustrated or hurt, and he’d learned to distinguish between playful and fearful shouts. But he’d never heard ...her scream like this, and the sound chilled him to the bone. “Someone! Please! Quick!” As soon as she saw him, her screams turned to sobs. “Daddy, Daddy, you have to help.” He dropped to his knees beside her. “What happened? Where are you hurt?” He ran his hands over her as he spoke, his heart in his throat as he tried to determine the nature of her injury. The way she’d been screaming, he’d sincerely feared that she’d lost a limb or at least broken a bone. But aside from the red face streaked with tears, she appeared to be unharmed, and relief flooded through him like a wave.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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