Madison had already left, her presence a lingering ghost in the house. But there was one more thing I needed to do. I picked up my phone and dialed my daughter’s number. She deserved to hear the truth from me, unvarnished and raw.

“Mom?” Her voice was laced with sleep and concern. “Is everything okay?”

“No, sweetheart,” I replied, my voice softening. “But it will be. I need to tell you something. About Madison.”

As I spoke, I felt the weight of the words lift from my shoulders. There was pain in the telling, but also a release, a freedom that came from finally exposing the truth.