Yet he had his flaws. He drank frequently and often came home late, sometimes not at all. Each time, my mother-in-law’s anger would erupt again. I used to think it was just the wear and tear of a long marriage.
My daughter, Lily, had just turned four. My husband and I didn’t want to send her to daycare too early, but with both of us working full-time, it became difficult.
My mother-in-law had helped for a while, but I didn’t want to burden her forever.
A close friend recommended a private home daycare run by a woman named Anna.
She only looked after three children, had cameras installed, and cooked fresh meals every day. I visited, observed, and felt reassured. So I enrolled Lily.
At first, everything was perfect. I often checked the cameras during work and saw Anna treating the children gently and patiently.
Sometimes I picked Lily up late, and Anna never complained—she even fed her dinner.
Then one afternoon, while driving home, Lily suddenly said:
“Mommy, there’s a girl at teacher’s house who looks just like me.”
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