“Please, arrest me. I’d rather go to jail than go back to that house…”

the decaying bread and the bloody bandages scattered on the floor, and then finally resting on the pale, trembling, terrified boy. Slowly, deliberately, the officer lowered his handcuffs. He shifted his weight, turning his scrutinizing, suddenly hardened gaze toward the now remarkably pale, utterly speechless parents standing in my foyer.

Tiffany let continue reading …