My Daughter Died Two Years Ago – Last Week the School Called to Say She Was in the Principal’s Office

Neil stopped pacing. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You shouldn’t have lied.”

He didn’t respond.

I stepped closer. “Start speaking, or I’m going straight to the police.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

He looked exhausted suddenly. “Look, she wasn’t the same.”

“What does that mean?”

“After the infection, there was damage. Cognitive delays. Behavioral issues. The doctors said she might never function at her previous level.”

“So?” I demanded. “She was alive.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t see her during recovery. She couldn’t speak clearly and needed therapy, specialists, and special schooling. It was going to cost thousands.”

“Look, she wasn’t the same.”

My voice rose. “So you decided she was better off dead?”

“I didn’t kill her!” he snapped. “I found a family.”

“A family?”

“A couple who already adopted before. They agreed to take her.”

“You gave her away?”

Neil looked at me as if he expected understanding. “I thought I was protecting you. You were barely functioning. I thought this was a way for us to move forward.”