“I told her I’d run away and tell the police she was a bad mom. That I hated her.” A deep frown mars his face. “I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to scare her, but it didn’t work.” The lump in my throat tightens and I silently implore him to keep going. “Instead, she pointed to the front door, screamed she didn’t want me…and told me to get out and never come back.” Anger wars with the sorrow burning in my chest. “Did you leave?” He shakes his head. “No. I went into my room—a closet with a few blankets on the ground—and cried like a little bitch for hours.”
