When my daughter didn’t come home, panic consumed me. A call finally came: “She’s safe… at the community center.”
I rushed there and found her trembling, expecting my anger. Instead, I hugged her. Through tears, she admitted feeling unheard and suffocated by curfews.
That night, over cocoa, we truly listened to each other. What began as fear turned into a tradition of Sunday talks—no rules, just trust.
I realized keeping her safe wasn’t only about boundaries—it was about connection.
