“Emily hasn’t been in class all week,” her teacher told me. That made no sense — I watched my daughter leave every morning. So I followed her. When she stepped off the bus and got into a pickup truck instead of going inside, my heart stopped. When the truck pulled away, I drove after them.
I never thought I’d be the kind of mother who follows her child, but when I discovered she’d been lying to me, that’s exactly what I did.
Emily is 14. Her dad, Mark, and I split up years ago. He’s the guy who remembers your favorite ice cream but forgets to sign permission slips or book appointments. Mark is all heart but no organization, and I couldn’t carry it all by myself anymore.
I thought Emily had adjusted well.
But the terrible teens have a way of bringing problems to the surface.
I discovered she’d been lying to me.
Emily seemed like her usual self.
She was a bit quieter, maybe a little more glued to her phone than usual, a bit overly fond of wearing oversized hoodies that covered half her face, but nothing that screamed “crisis.”
She left for school every morning at 7:30 a.m. Her grades were good, and when I asked how school was going, she always said it was fine.
Then I got a phone call from the school.
When I asked how school was going, she always said it was fine.
I answered right away. I assumed she had a fever or forgot her gym shoes.
“This is Mrs. Carter, Emily’s homeroom teacher. I wanted to check in because Emily has been absent all week.”
I almost laughed; it was just so out of character for my Emily.
“That can’t be right.” I pushed back from my desk. “She leaves the house every morning. I watch her walk out the door.”
There was a long, heavy beat of silence.
“She leaves the house every morning. I watch her walk out the door.”
“No,” Mrs. Carter said. “She hasn’t been in any of her classes since Monday.”
“Monday… okay. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll talk to her.”
I hung up the phone and sat there. My daughter had been pretending to go to school all week… where had she really been going?
When Emily came home that evening, I was waiting for her.
“How was school, Em?” I asked.
When Emily came home that evening, I was waiting for her.
“The usual,” she replied. “I got a whole ton of math homework, and History is so boring.”
“And what about your friends?”
She stiffened.
“Em?”
Emily rolled her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?”
She stomped off to her room, and I watched her go. She’d been lying for four days, so I figured a direct confrontation would just make her dig a deeper hole.
I needed a different approach.
