" No. I wasn’t there. I was back in Gladstone, Pennsylvania, and I was twelve years old. Two state troopers were in the driveway, with a white car parked . . . and swiftly they were striding to interrupt a birthday party to tell us all that Daddy was dead. Killed in an accident on Greenfield Highway.

“Chris! Chris!” I screamed, terrified he might have gone.

“I’m here. I’m coming. I knew you’d need me. "

― V.C. Andrews , Petals on the Wind (Dollanganger, #2)