“Daddy, sweetie, help! I think I killed a person.”
The voice of the daughter on the phone sounds hysterical and trapped. Half the words drown in muffled wet sobs. For a fraction of a second, I even allow myself to believe I imagined it all.
“Again, Mill—clearly. What happened?”
Ignoring the crowd of subordinates waiting for my decision, I тяжко поднялась from the chair.
“ I got into an accident. More precisely, I hit a person,” the daughter roars. “I think it’s a girl.”
I don’t care who!
That’s what I thought—until I met the “victim”… and I was lost.