The officer pulled out the handcuffs. The metallic click as they snapped shut around Amanda’s wrists was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. “Amanda Carter, you’re under arrest for aggravated child abuse, assault with a dangerous weapon, and criminal neglect.”
As they took her away, she didn’t cry. She didn’t apologize. She glared at me with hatred and shouted, “You won’t last a week without me! You don’t even know how to use a washing machine! That girl will ruin your life!”
When her screams faded down the hall, I turned to Lily. The heart monitor’s rate began to slow. The panic was subsiding. I sat back down beside her and kissed her sweaty forehead. “It’s over, my love. The wicked witch is gone. And I swear on my life she won’t be back.”
The following weeks were hell, but a necessary hell. Lily had to undergo two skin graft surgeries. The dressing changes were agonizing; her cries of pain pierced my memory, reminding me every day of my failure as her protector. But I didn’t leave her side. I resigned from my position as director. My bosses told me I was crazy, that I was throwing my career away. “I have a more important job,” I told them as I packed my things.