I stared at her.
Emily lowered her eyes.
“Your father didn’t either.”
Another pause.
Then:
“Your mother shoved me when I tried to get Sophie’s winter coat.”
The room went silent.
“She said if I didn’t leave, she’d call Child Protective Services and report me as an unfit mother.”
I kissed Emily’s forehead.
“You’re not alone anymore.”
The next morning, I returned to the house with my phone secretly recording.
I found my mother stuffing Emily’s clothes into trash bags.
My father was in his office speaking on speakerphone.
“Call an emergency board meeting,” he ordered.
“My son came back unstable. We need to declare him mentally incompetent before he does something stupid.”
I walked inside.
Neither of them had heard me.
“You should be at the hospital,” my mother snapped.
