The bathroom fell silent. Steven let out a short, forced laugh. “Kids make up the craziest stories, Mrs. Adams. Kayla, tell them. Tell your mom how good I am to you.”

But Kayla wouldn’t look at anyone, her body trembling in his arms. A terrifying, icy coldness began to spread through my chest.

“I took pictures,” Reese said, her voice gaining strength. “On Mommy’s phone. When Kayla was sleeping. You push her into walls. You hit her tummy where nobody can see. Then you buy her presents so she won’t tell.”