Cynthia Dion:
"Sneak out," Mr. Holt repeated.
"I--" I stuttered, confused.
"To discuss what we can do to persuade your father to give you and your sister a chance," he continued swiftly, clarifying to dispel my doubts evident in my silence.
"It is not possible for me to meet you at this time," I excused, having set a boundary to avoid any requests that could lead to more trouble with my father.
"Okay! I'll come by to meet you in the morning," he spoke softly to me, a tone I wasn't accustomed to.
"But Dad won't let you talk to me," I whispered, quickly pulling the phone away from my ear to glance at the time displayed on the screen.
It was past midnight.
"Just leave that to me." He almost mumbled the last part conspiratorially, "Go rest now; we'll meet in the morning." With that, he
