When I visited my ex-husband’s house, I noticed my daughter’s back covered in red ink. his girlfriend laughed, “it’s just a few markings.” I looked at her and smiled, “thank you — you just helped me more than you know.”

I picked Kay up every other Sunday at 6 p.m. from Jacques’s house. But last week when I knocked, Kay didn’t run to the door like she usually does. I found her in the living room, wearing Jacques’s oversized hoodie, facing away from me. Cassie, Jacques’s girlfriend, stood there grinning. “We had some girl time at my shop.”

Kay twisted away when I tried to hug her. Something was very wrong. “Take off your hoodie, sweetie,” I said gently.