The text was brief. And terribly urgent.
‘Come quick. Sophie in accident,’ it shrieked in all caps.
Bradley jumped from the park bench as he pocketed his phone. How could this possibly be? He was just with his daughter less than an hour ago.
He sprinted down the sidewalk in the direction of Saint Anthony’s, the only hospital within a five-mile radius. If he only knew his effort was in vain.
Candice should’ve felt guilty but didn’t. Sure, it was a fraudulent text, but he deserved it.
It’d been eight months, and he still wasn’t divorced.
He had promised too…
The Weekday One Hundred 