A little after midnight, two police officers knocked on my door and asked to speak to my 15-year-old daughter, Lily.

on the hood.

Lily whispering, “Mom, no way.”

Jenna staring at it like something had been stolen from her.

I should have seen it then.

Maybe I did.

Maybe I just did what responsible daughters do and ignored the warning because naming it would have made me difficult.

I am done being easy at my daughter’s expense.

The thing about golden children is that families continue reading …