Neil knew.
He moved her to a private facility.
Took control of everything.
And never told me.
When I confronted him, he didn’t deny it.
“She wasn’t the same,” he said. “There were complications. Therapy. Costs. It would’ve destroyed us.”
“So you told me she died?”
“I thought I was protecting you.”
Protecting me.
By burying my child while she was still alive.
He had given her away. Quietly. Illegally.
Erased her from my life.
And expected me to live with it.
I didn’t scream.
I didn’t cry.
I just said:
“We’re done.”
The police got involved. The records surfaced. His confession sealed it.
He was arrested within days.
The people who had taken Grace claimed they didn’t know the truth.
The courts moved quickly after that.
Grace came home.
Not to the life we had before.
But to something new.
Something real.
Sometimes I watch her from across the room, just breathing, just existing… and I still can’t believe she’s here.
I lost her once.
I won’t lose her again.
