For weeks, my 15-year-old daughter Kayla suffered from constant nausea and stomach pain, hiding inside her oversized hoodie and flinching at every touch. I knew something was horribly wrong, but the doctors kept brushing it off as teenage stress. Then, while washing her laundry, I found a hidden pocket inside her jacket , my blood boiling, and that night, I walked into the faculty dinner holding a baseball bat…
a town that minded its own business. The winter there was brutal, burying the streets under feet of silent, heavy snow. It was exactly what we needed. Isolation.
But isolation breeds madness, and the trauma had hollowed Kayla out. She spent her days staring at the frost on the windows, a ghost haunting her own life. I was drowning in legal paperwork,continue reading …