The Day I Dropped My Husband at the Airport, My Eight-Year-Old Daughter Warned Me Not to Go Home. Minutes Later, I Saw Why.

“No,” I answered carefully.

“I wish it did.

Being safe means we have people we can talk to, choices we can make, and plans for what to do when something feels wrong.”

Lily thought about that.

“Like when I told you at the airport?”

“Exactly like that.”

She nodded.

“Then I think we’re getting good at it.”