“Emily hasn’t been in class all week,” her teacher told me. That didn’t make any sense — I watched my daughter leave every single morning. So I followed her. When she stepped off the bus and climbed into a pickup truck instead of walking into school, my heart nearly stopped. When the truck drove off, I drove after them.
I never imagined I’d be the kind of parent who trails her child, but once I realized she’d been lying, that’s exactly what I did.
Emily is 14. Her dad, Mark, and I separated years ago. He’s the type who remembers your favorite ice cream flavor but forgets to sign permission slips or schedule dentist appointments. Mark has a big heart but zero organization, and I couldn’t carry everything alone anymore.
I thought Emily had handled the divorce well.
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