He isn’t short, or an overweight, sweaty man like Bernadette threw in my face. He’s… built, muscular, and my height. He doesn’t have grey hair; it’s brown, and she almost seems comfortable with him. In the second image, she looks like she’s half-smiling. Some of my panic subsides. I know exactly who that is, but I’m not going to give Bernadette ammunition by telling her my father has Stacey.
