Larry listened, then snapped to attention when I mentioned the black car. “Did you get a plate?” he asked. I read it out, hearing furious typing.
Then came a single “ping,” followed by a silence that made my stomach drop. “Stacy,” Larry said quietly, “get your mother and come to my house. Now.”
At his place, he looked shaken. He pulled up a file tied to an underground gambling syndicate—illegal casinos, dirty money, and worse.
“If that car is linked to them,” he warned, “you’re in danger.” And then he said the words I never expected to hear about my dad.
Dad wasn’t just running. He’d been hiding a gambling addiction for years—and now the people he owed had finally come to collect.
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