I Thought Sending My Son to His Father Was the Right Choice—Until I Realized He Needed Me More Than Ever

stared at it, unmoving. The heater ticked, slowly warming the air between us, but it couldn’t touch the cold ache settling into my chest.

Then, in a whisper barely louder than the rain tapping against the windshield, he said, “I can’t sleep, Mom. I don’t know what to do.”

That was when I knew, with total certainty, that my son was not okay.

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