At midnight, my four-year-old granddaughter stood sobbing on my doorstep. I lifted her into my

“She didn’t run away,” he repeated, voice breaking. “Kara brought her to you.”

The world felt like it was spinning off its axis. I clutched the phone tighter, trying to ground myself as I looked at my granddaughter, who sat so small and fragile beneath the kitchen lights. Her wide eyes were fixed on her cup, as if trying to hide in its warmth.

“Why?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady so Lily wouldn’t hear the fear in it. “Why would Kara do this?”