Her name was printed at the top.
Underneath were the words:
“Confidential consultation. Parent or guardian must be present.”
My hands began shaking.
Why was my daughter visiting a private clinic with her father?
And why hadn’t anyone told me?
I wanted to confront him immediately, but something stopped me.
I needed to speak to Emma alone.
That evening, I entered her bedroom.
She was sitting on her bed, staring at her phone.
“Sweetheart, is there something you want to tell me?”
She looked frightened.
“About what?”
“About your father.”
Her face turned pale.
“Mom, please don’t ask me that.”
I sat beside her.
“Emma, listen carefully. Whatever has happened, you can tell me. I will protect you.”
Tears filled her eyes.
For a moment, I thought she was finally going to speak.
Instead, she hugged me tightly.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”
Then she began crying.
