Damien Thorne stood in the doorway of his daughter's bedroom, watching her play with her toys. The divorce papers Elara had served him sat heavily on his desk, unsigned.
"Cora," he called softly. "Come here, princess."
The five-year-old looked up from her dolls, her dark curls bouncing as she jumped to her feet. "Yes, Daddy?"
"You're starting at Westbrook Academy tomorrow." Damien knelt to her level. "Are you excited?"
Cora nodded enthusiastically. "Will Mommy be there?"
Damien's jaw tightened slightly. "No. I'll be dropping you off."
"Where is Mommy? She didn't come home last night." Cora's eyes were wide with innocent curiosity.
"She's staying at Great-Grandma Clara's house for a while," he explained, the lie coming easily. He had no idea where Elara was staying, but Clara's seemed the most logical guess.
Cora's bottom lip pushed out in a pout. "But why?"