My in-laws sent my daughter a teddy bear for her birthday—when she pointed to its eye, I realized something was terribly wrong, and three days later, the police were at their door

a button had come loose. But no. The right eye was round, shiny, ordinary plastic. The left one had a tiny black dot in the center, too deep, too precise. It didn’t look like a defect. It looked like an opening.

My mouth went dry.

I took the bear carefully.

“Go help Daddy put the candles in,” I told Sofía, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Is it broken?continue reading …