I came back from a business trip, and the first thing my seven-year-old son said was, “Don’t go into my room.” Of course, I went in anyway.

Bennett, had never liked it when I traveled. He understood that my job sometimes required me to leave, but understanding did not make it easier for him.

The first night, he had called me from his bed.

“Did you remember to lock the back door?” he asked.

“Your aunt Lauren checked it twice,” I assured him.

“Did she check the windows?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

I continue reading …