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.

He was looking for that phone.

“How did this get in here?” I asked.

My daughter sat on the couch, squeezing a pillow.

“I took it on Sunday.”

I looked at her.

“Why, sweetheart?”

“Because after I heard him talking, I was scared he would throw it away.”

My first instinct was to pull her close.