But Travis did everything a devoted father would do.
He drove Kaylee to volleyball practice, sometimes making a two-hour round trip. He built a practice net from old fence posts and cargo netting. He attended every match and kept detailed statistics on a clipboard nobody had asked him to bring.
He knew her performance numbers almost as well as her coach.
When she needed help with school projects, he stayed up late.
When she was sick, he brought soup and checked her temperature.
When her first school dance left her nervous, he waited outside until she was ready to come home.
Yet he never once introduced himself as her father.
I believed he was respecting her relationship with Ryan.
I hadn’t realized that his caution had gradually become fear.
After dinner that Tuesday, Travis disappeared into his warehouse, claiming he needed to check inventory.
I went upstairs and knocked on Kaylee’s bedroom door.
