As we were about to board our flight, my stepmother suddenly breached the airport security checkpoint and tried to ki:dnap my baby right out of my arms.

Lily was mine, whether Patricia had threatened us, and whether we were safe.

Those were the right questions.

Years from now, Lily may ask why we moved to Seattle so suddenly, why there are no baby pictures of her with Patricia, why Uncle Noah was absent from her early birthdays. I will tell her the truth in pieces she can carry.

I will tell her that some continue reading …