I came home to an unnerving silence, a stark contrast to the usual sounds of my daughter, Lily, or Jessica reading to her. The house felt wrong. I called out for them, but there was no answer.
The living room was messy, but empty. Upstairs, Lily’s room was eerily neat, her shoes and stuffed bunny gone. Panic set in as I dialed Jessica’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. Something was off. My heart raced as I realized Lily’s pink backpack was missing. Desperately, I tracked its location through an AirTag hidden inside. It led to the airport.
I drove there, heart pounding. My thoughts spiraled to dark places: kidnapping, trafficking. At the terminal, I spotted Lily’s backpack, and there they were—Lily, Jessica, and a man in a suit. It was my ex-husband, Daniel. He had manipulated Jessica into believing I was keeping Lily from him out of spite. The truth hit me like a truck. He thought he could just take her, but I wasn’t letting that happen. Security stepped in just as Daniel raised his hand. They arrested him. I held Lily close, whispering promises to protect her.
I had won.