Chapter 2
Then I picked Lily up, grabbed my coat, and walked out of that house.
My husband Mark followed us to the door, but not because he was worried about Lily.
“Chloe, let it go.”
I looked at him with Lily crying against my shoulder.
“Your sister just hit our daughter.”
“You made it worse.”
That sentence stayed with me as I sat on the front steps in my slippers, holding my child in the cold.
Inside, his mother Carol said Lily had been “part of the disruption.”
His father Frank suggested everybody calm down and finish dinner.
Nobody asked Lily if she was okay.
I did not call the police first.
I called Zoe Ramirez.
Zoe was Lily’s godmother. She was also one of the toughest family-law attorneys in Chicago.
When she answered, I could barely get the words out.
“Megan hit Lily.”
Zoe went quiet for half a second.
May you like
Then she asked one question.
“Are you somewhere safe?”
