Page 65 of One More Chance
I turned, quickly pasting on a calm expression. “Yeah, baby girl?”
“Can Rufus sleep in my room tonight? I feel... weird.”
I glanced down and saw Rufus already pressed against her side like a shadow. He was alert, ears twitching.
“Yeah, of course,” I said, forcing a smile. “Rufus is on night duty.”
She smiled, then vanished back into the house.
I stood on the porch a moment longer. The night felt… swollen, expanded, as if it were holding its breath. Somewhere out there, Angie was watching. Waiting.
But so was I. And this time, I wasn’t anything like the Old Me who ran from consequences or responsibilities. I was a man who protected his family.
Even if it meant burying a few bodies.
Chapter 23
After the call with the detective, I decided to wait for Sloane to discuss our next steps with the world and with Angie.
In the meantime, I spent the night quietly with the kids. Liam disappeared into his room to video chat with the band guys he liked to practice with, while Violet was already setting up her game.
I lingered in the hallway outside of her room for a moment, listening to the soft clatter of her keyboard, the faint hum of her computer. Then I walked in, trying to sound casual.
“Hey, Violet. Wanna play together?”
Her face lit up before a flicker of suspicion crossed it, as if my sudden interest raised a red flag. “Sure, Dad. But that’s pretty sus.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Fair. But let’s play anyway. You can show me around.”
She nodded and scooted over to make space. I logged in beside her with my work laptop, and for the next couple of hours, we built a castle together out of digital blocks in a virtual world. She taught me the controls, the map, the quirks of the server. I made sure to ask questionsto get her talking. But I also kept an eye on the voice channel, listening for anything out of place; conversations that dipped too far into the personal or any other red flags.
I always had my eyes scanning for that one specific username: Prince_Harming.
It was just a game. But I knew how people could use ‘just a game’ to worm their way in.
That night, I memorized every detail I could. Not only the layout of the castle or the crafting recipes, but the way her voice softened when she felt safe, the ease in her laugh when I struggled to move my character.
It was surprisingly relaxing and maybe a little ironic that I was both a builder in real life and now, also, in my daughter’s digital world. There was something therapeutic about it. Placing blocks, crafting walls, creating shelter out of nothing. Violet and I worked side by side, and for a while, it felt like the world outside that glowing screen didn’t exist.
Eventually, bedtime rolled in. I glanced at the clock and gave the gentle reminder that had somehow become routine again.
“Alright, you two. Time to start winding down.”
Violet groaned but logged off without a fight, which I took as a small miracle. Liam was already tucked into his audiobook, earbuds in.
I made the rounds, turned out the lights, checked the locks, felt myself linger a second too long at each of their doors.
Damn, that was a good night with the kids.
Sloane walked into the kitchen around midnight, her hair pulled into a messy bun, face pale and pinched from another long shift. She didn't notice me at the dining room table at first; she had immediatelyfocused on reviewing the kids’ school packets on the counter. The low swish of the dishwasher filled the silence.
I sat there, watching her. She was the center of this fragile, reclaimed peace we’d built and I was about to shake it.
“Sloane,” I said, my voice low.
She spun, startled, holding a stack of papers in her hand. “Jesus fuck, Levi… hey." She managed a small laugh at herself. "I thought you'd have gone to bed already."
"Sorry to disappoint."
