For months, I told myself it was a good thing.
My ex-husband showing up on time. Keeping promises. Taking our child for weekends that were “just for them.”
It was the kind of coparenting win people congratulate you for.
Then a small object fell out of my daughter’s backpack on a random weekday afternoon.
And the second I saw it, my stomach dropped.
Because it wasn’t something a six-year-old brings home from the park.
It was something she shouldn’t have ever had to touch.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
