"Esme, it's not what you think," Dexter started, but Esme cut him off.
"Then tell me what it is," she demanded. "I have a right to know what's going on, especially if it involves our safety."
Dexter exchanged a troubled glance with Scarlet before turning back to his daughter. He realized he couldn't hide this matter any longer.
Dexter sighed, rubbing his temples as if trying to alleviate the weight of the situation. "I'll tell you everything. Come and sit here." He patted the bed beside him.
As Esme lowered herself onto the bed beside him, Dexter reached out and squeezed her hand. Taking a deep breath, he narrated, "I am working on a hit-and-run case. A man, drunk and speeding, took the lives of a couple on a motorcycle. But punishing him..." he trailed off, his face hardening with frustration, "is proving next to impossible. He comes from a wealthy family, one with considerable influence."