It started like any other morning — a quiet kitchen, the smell of toast, and my six-year-old daughter humming softly as she drew in her sketchbook

When I arrived, the hallway felt unnaturally quiet. The principal was waiting — and so were two police officers. My stomach dropped.

“Your daughter said something concerning,” the principal began. “Her teacher asked why she seemed uncomfortable in her chair… and Emily said it hurts to sit.”

The words hit like a thunderclap.

Then came the drawing.

I never saw it myself, but later the teacher, Mrs. Harrington, described it — a stick-figure girl bending over, another taller figure behind her. Crude, childlike, but deeply wrong. Without hesitation, she’d called 911.

And just like that, suspicion fell on my family.