“No! I don’t want to go! Please don’t make me!”
My heart twisted.
But I didn’t understand.
Kids go through phases, I told myself. Separation anxiety. Maybe she just wanted to stay home.
So I kissed her forehead, reassured her softly… and took her anyway.
That was my first mistake.
Because it didn’t stop.
The next morning — same thing.
The morning after that — worse.
Each time, Monica cried harder. Each time, she clung to me like she was being pulled somewhere she didn’t belong.
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