My best friend had nowhere to go after her divorce, so I took her in. All I asked was for her to babysit my 3-year-old son while I worked from 9 to 5. She agreed with a smile. One afternoon, I came home earlier than usual and found the house strangely quiet. My son was nowhere to be seen. My heart raced as I searched every room.
When I asked her where he was, she looked at me calmly and said, “You can now… breathe.” Fear surged through me until I suddenly heard soft laughter drifting in from the backyard. I ran outside, and there he was—safe and sound—inside a little play tent, surrounded by toys, books, and even fairy lights glowing gently above him.
