The phone lit up at 2:47 in the morning while I was in a hotel room in Seattle, preparing to present at a pediatric trauma conference the next day. When I saw the caller ID from Oakridge Elementary in Boston, my stomach tightened because no school calls a parent at that hour unless something terrible has happened.
“Mr. Bennett, this is Principal Karen Walters,” the woman said in a strained voice. “I am very sorry to wake you, but your daughter just arrived at the school about an hour ago and she came here alone.”
I sat upright so quickly that the bedside lamp rattled across the table as the dim glow of the city outside stretched across the carpet. “My daughter is seven years old and she is supposed to be at home with my wife,” I said while my voice struggled to stay steady, “so please tell me what you mean by alone.”
“She walked here barefoot in the middle of the night,” the principal replied quietly. “Her feet are cut from gravel and she has bruises on her arms and legs, and she refuses to speak but keeps writing the same sentence again and again.”