Lean too far one way and you smother them, tear through their backpacks and read their messages and teach them that they have no self you will not invade.

Lean too far the other and you can miss, as I nearly did, the thing that is actually wrong, the drowning that hides itself behind a closed door and a smooth answer.

There is no formula for it; every parent guesses, every day, and hopes they have guessed right.

That night, I guessed toward privacy, and I very nearly guessed wrong, and it was not my wisdom that saved us but only luck, and Sal, and a phone call.

It is the one lesson from all of this I would give to any parent: when the math is wrong, and the story does not fit, and something in you will not settle, do not let politeness talk you out of it.