My daughter called me crying at 2:47 a.m.: “Dad… I’m in the hospital. Uncle Ryan pushed me into the water, but he’s saying I slipped. The police believe him.” When I arrived…

When I walked in, the agent looked up… and I saw a flash of recognition.

“I’m Lily’s father,” I said evenly. “And I hope her statement is taken seriously.”

Ryan’s confident smile faltered for barely a second.

I knelt in front of my daughter.

—I’m here— I told him. —Start from the beginning.

She took a breath with difficulty.

—We were on the dock after dinner. Mom went to bed early. Uncle Ryan said the stars looked brighter on the water. Then I heard voices in the boathouse. I asked who else was there. He got tense.

Her fingers tightened against the blanket.