Seven Yellow Folders Exposed What My Parents Had Done to Ethan

I adjusted my watch strap, pulling the thick leather notch snug against my wrist.

“Where’s Ethan right now?”

“He’s at school, where he belongs,” she said.

“He’s safe, Madison.

He’s always been safe in this house.”

“He didn’t look safe when I talked to him on Tuesday,” I said.

“He’s fourteen, and all this lawyer talk has him confused,” she said, smoothing her silk scarf across her collarbone.

“He needs stability, not a legal war between his sister and his parents.”