My closest friend found herself without a place to call home after her divorce, so I welcomed her into my house with open arms. My only request was that she look after my energetic 3-year-old son while I was at work from morning until evening. She accepted the responsibility with a warm, genuine smile, eager to help. One day, I returned home earlier than expected, stepping into a house that felt unusually still. My son was nowhere in sight. A wave of panic surged through me as I hurried from room to room, calling his name.
