“Don’t,” he said quietly.
I ripped my arm out of his grip.
“What is this?” I demanded, holding up the photos.
His expression hardened. “Mrs. Hart. Please.”
“Please?” I hissed. “You have pictures of my daughter crying. You’ve been following her? Photographing her? What kind of sick—”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Then tell me what it is.”
A few heads were turning now. A couple near the punch table had stopped talking. Somewhere behind Caleb, the slow song was still playing, and I caught a glimpse of silver over his shoulder.
Daisy.
She was still on the dance floor, swaying with one of Caleb’s friends, completely unaware. Her eyes were closed. She was smiling.
Caleb followed my gaze. When he looked back at me, he stepped closer and lowered his voice until only I could hear it.
“Keep quiet. For her sake. Or you’re going to regret it.”
For a second, I couldn’t breathe.
Rage rose up through my chest so fast it made me dizzy.
“Are you threatening me?”
