I Caught My 17-Year-Old Daughter Sneaking Home at 4 A.M. After Prom—What Fell Out of Her Purse Broke My Heart

”

For several seconds she couldn’t answer.

Then she finally managed to speak.

“They’re not mine.”

I looked at the bottle again.

“Then whose are they?”

She sat down on the couch.

Her shoulders shaking.

“Jacob’s.”

Jacob.

Her date.

The nice boy who had picked her up in a rented tuxedo.

The polite kid who had shaken my hand and promised to have Ellie home safely.

I continue reading …