When the massive chandelier fell, my husband ignored our daughter’s screams to protect his ex’s child. I shielded her with my own back. After the dust cleared, my daughter wiped my tears and whispered, “Mommy, let’s leave daddy behind.” When my husband finally turned to look at us…

child therapist had suggested two years ago—right around the time Dylan had first abandoned her birthday party to attend to one of Ryan’s “colds.”

I watched the violent, heavy strokes of her black crayon. She drew a pitch-black house. Black, twisted trees. And a tall man in a dark suit, his back turned, walking away from a tiny, featureless girl. At continue reading …