Behind Closed Doors

“Goodnight, munchkin,” Kara whispered, taking a risk and kissing Emma’s forehead. She knew that in a few years, maybe even sooner, the little girl wouldn’t want her mum to tuck her in anymore. She wouldn’t want kisses. Wouldn’t want stories. Before long, she wouldn’t even want to let her mother in the room. If she was going to be anything like Kara as a teenager, then access to Emma’s room, like access to her life, would be strictly controlled.But for now she was five. And getting her to slee...