By the time he appeared in the kitchen, the office door was locked and the money had vanished. “Hey babe, how was work?” he asked, kissing my forehead like nothing had happened.
That night, Travis went to bed early complaining of a headache. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to prep ingredients for dinner the next day.
My laptop was at the office, but Travis had left his open on the dining room table. I clicked on it, planning to find a recipe for the chicken dish he liked. Instead, I found something that left me reeling.
The browser was already open to a child talent agency website. A gallery of smiling kids filled the screen, each with professional headshots and booking information.
My finger trembled as I scrolled through the faces, and then my world collapsed.
There she was. Lily. Listed under a completely different name with a full profile and rate card: “Available for short-term engagements. Great with emotional scenes. $200 per booking.” She wasn’t his daughter. She was a child actress.
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