I Found My Daughter’s Note in Her Wet Backpack After I Picked Her Up From Her Dad’s — and Realized That Night Wasn’t the First
She was being framed for her own suffering.
And the only thing in the world that could break a trap like that was the one thing they could not manufacture or edit or delete in time: a record they did not know was being kept, and a mother who finally decided to read it.
Chapter 12 — Something Else I Haven’t Told You
The emergency custody hearing was set for the following Thursday.
And the night before it, Maya came into my bedroom, her eyes red and swollen, and stood in the doorway the way she used to stand there when she was small and had a bad dream.
“Mom,” she said.