Kelsie, still unfazed, shrugged and said, “It’s fine. Kids need to learn how to negotiate and solve problems on their own. It builds character.” Her words were like ice cubes down my spine, chilling me with their indifference.
I couldn’t believe it. My daughter was locked in a cage—a dog crate, no less—and this was some sort of life lesson? I felt anger and disbelief mixing a volatile cocktail within me.
I quickly knelt down, my hands trembling slightly, and unlatched the crate. Ellie crawled out, her little body tense as she clutched onto me. “Mommy, it was dark,” she whispered, her voice small and scared. The anger inside me flared up again, protective and primal.
