I arrived at my daughter’s school earlier than usual, parking in the lot just in time to notice her talking to a man who looked to be in his 40s. My stomach dropped, and a wave of panic surged through me. When I saw him reach out to brush her hair back, a protective rage overtook me.
I leapt out of the car, shouting, “Don’t touch her!” The man stepped back, startled, and as I got closer, my heart stopped. It was her father—my ex-boyfriend who had vanished when I told him I was pregnant.
My daughter clung to me tightly as he stammered about wanting to “make things right.” Anger bubbled over as I told him he had no place in her life after abandoning us. Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned and left, holding my daughter close.
