“It wasn’t an accident,” I told the doctor. “It was a choice.”
Dr. Khalani nodded, pulling out her tablet. “I am a mandated reporter, Rebecca. I have to call DCFS (Department of Children and Family Services). This is child endangerment.”
“Do it,” I said. “But you’re going to need more than just my word against a former Police Chief. He’s powerful in this town. He’ll say it was a misunderstanding.”
I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone. My hands were finally steady. I had been saving screenshots for months, a digital archive of micro-aggressions that I had hoped I was imagining.
