She shook her head, tears starting to form in her eyes. Cassie laughed, a sharp, unpleasant sound. “Show your mom your surprise.” When Kay wouldn’t move, Cassie herself yanked the hoodie up.

There it was. Three large, intricate symbols running down my nine-year-old daughter’s back. Black, green, and red ink, still covered in plastic wrap. The skin beneath was angry and inflamed.

Cassie has always been trying to be the “cool” stepmom. She owns a marking parlor downtown, keeps buying Kay inappropriate clothing, and teaches her to wear makeup. Jacques thinks it’s harmless, but this crossed every conceivable line.