“Miss Spencer, I don’t have a daughter,” I said, a cold knot forming in my stomach. “I think there’s been a mistake.”

The principal’s voice turned sharp, impatient. “Mr. McMahon, this is not the time for games. Carrie McMahon is sitting in my office right now, and she needs her father. Please come to the school.”

The line went dead. I stared at the phone, my heart hammering against my ribs. I had been married to my wife, Kathleen, for twelve years.