After drop-off, my son’s teacher asked, “Why is your son absent today?”

I got in my car and drove home on autopilot, barely remembering the route. When I pulled into my apartment parking lot the sun was already setting. I grabbed my phone and work bag, trudged up the stairs to our second floor unit, and unlocked the door.

Theo was at the kitchen table doing homework and I forced myself to smile at him even though everything felt like it was falling apart. I heated up leftover pasta for both of us and we ate mostly in silence. After dinner I helped Theo with his math worksheet then sent him to take a shower and get ready for bed.

Once he was in his room I opened my laptop to check if there were any updates from Naelli or Detective Price. That’s when I saw it: an email from an address I didn’t recognize with the subject line “RE: custody matter Hester V. Watkins.” My stomach twisted as I opened it.

The email was from Maya’s attorney and it was three pages of legal language that made my head spin. The main points were clear: they were threatening to file a counter suit claiming I had kidnapped Theo from the construction site without proper authority. They said I was alienating Theo from his mother and coaching him to make false statements against her.

The email suggested that my actions could be seen as parental interference and that a judge might view me as the one creating an unsafe environment. It went on to say that if I continued pursuing criminal charges and didn’t agree to joint custody they would present evidence that I was manipulating the situation for custody advantage. The whole thing was designed to scare me and it was working.

My hands were shaking so bad I could barely control the mouse. I read through it twice feeling my anger build with each paragraph. They were trying to make me look like the bad guy when Maya was the one who had my son working construction for 3 weeks.

I immediately forwarded the email to Detective Price with a short message saying, “I just received this and didn’t know what to do.” Then I forwarded it to Naelli with the same message.

My phone rang less than 10 minutes later and it was Naelli. She told me she’d just read the email and wanted me to know that this was actually good news for our case. I asked her how threatening legal action against me could possibly be good news.

She explained that desperate attorneys send emails like this when they know their client’s position is weak. The fact that Maya’s lawyer was resorting to intimidation tactics showed that CPS wasn’t falling for any of their excuses. Naelli said the kidnapping claim was ridiculous because I’m Theo’s legal parent and I removed him from immediate danger.

She reminded me that law enforcement was already involved by the time I got to that construction site. As for the coaching allegations, she said Theo’s statement at the advocacy center was recorded by trained professionals who know how to spot coached testimony. Naelli explained that supervised visitation was still possible if Maya completed certain requirements.

She would need to finish parenting classes, go to counseling, and show that she understood why forcing Theo to work construction was harmful. Naelli emphasized that family reunification is always the goal when it can be done safely, but safety has to come first. She told me not to respond to the attorney’s email and to forward any future communications directly to her and Detective Price.

I thanked her and felt slightly better after hanging up. The next morning I called around looking for a therapist who specialized in childhood trauma. The third place I tried connected me with Sophia Bailey who had experience working with kids who’d been through exploitation and abuse.

I scheduled an intake appointment for that afternoon. When I picked Theo up from the school I told him we were going to meet with someone who helps kids process difficult experiences. “He asked if he was in trouble and I assured him he wasn’t that this was just someone who could help him feel better about everything that happened.”

Sophia’s office was in a small building near the library. She met us in the waiting room and introduced herself to both of us. She had Theo come back to her office first for an initial meeting while I stayed in the lobby.

They were back there for about 40 minutes and when they came out Theo looked tired but not upset. Sophia asked if I could stay for a few minutes to talk. She sat down across from me in her office and pulled out a notepad.

She explained that Theo was showing signs of trauma from what he’d experienced. I should expect nightmares, anxiety, difficulty trusting adults, possible regression in behavior, and challenges with authority figures. She said all of this was normal and didn’t mean Theo was permanently damaged.

Sophia gave me a handout with strategies for creating safety and predictability at home like consistent routines, clear communication, letting Theo have some control over small decisions, and avoiding surprises when possible. She scheduled twice weekly sessions for Theo starting the following week. I asked how long therapy might take and she said it varied by child but we should plan on at least several months of regular sessions.

That evening while Theo was watching TV my phone rang from a number I didn’t recognize. I answered and a woman identified herself as a reporter from the local news station. She said she’d heard about a child labor case involving the school district and wanted to interview me about school safety failures and exploitation of minors.

I felt panic rise in my chest. I told her I had no comment and hung up. Then I immediately called Detective Price.

I asked if there was any way to keep Theo’s name out of the media coverage. He said he would work with the prosecutor’s office to request that any reporting avoid identifying details about the minor victim but he warned me that high-profile cases sometimes attract attention despite everyone’s best efforts. He suggested I not answer calls from unknown numbers for a while.

Two days later I got a call from someone named Hassan Cartwright who worked in the school district’s security office. He said he was heading up a review of student safety protocols and wanted my input as a parent who experienced the system’s failures firsthand. I was still angry at the school but I agreed to meet with him because maybe I could help prevent this from happening to another kid.

We met at a coffee shop near the school. Hassan brought a tablet and took notes while I walked him through every gap I’d identified. I mentioned the outdated contact information, the lack of verification for permission slips, the emergency exit doors that didn’t trigger alerts, and the lack of automated notifications when a student scanned in but didn’t show up to class.