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The Lie They Put My Name On
For several seconds, I could not move.
Officer Daniels repeated what he had said, more slowly this time, as though he had already dealt with enough panic that morning and knew mine was about to arrive.
“The children are safe,” he said. “A neighbor called after seeing the youngest child outside near the driveway without an adult. We responded to the home. Your parents arrived shortly after. Your brother and sister-in-law are being contacted.”
My mouth went dry. “I was not watching them.”
“That is why I’m calling,” he said. “Your name and number were written on a note left on the kitchen counter.”
I stared at my bedroom wall, still in the same sweatpants I had worn to bed after crying harder than I wanted to admit.
“What note?”
He cleared his throat. “It said, ‘Olivia has the kids until noon. We’ll be at the clinic.’”
I closed my eyes.
