“Temporary?” I echoed, incredulous. “You didn’t notice your own daughter wasn’t sleeping in her room, wasn’t eating properly?”

Her silence was all the confirmation I needed.

Eric scoffed, trying to regain control of the situation. “You’re overreacting. She wasn’t hurt.”

But I could see it—the hurt was etched into her very being, more than physical. It was the kind of hurt that leaves invisible scars, the kind that can take a lifetime to heal.