When my four-year-old daughter, Chloe, begged to leave my girlfriend Lily’s house, I knew something was wrong.Chloe and I had been on our own since her mother left. Three months ago, I met Lily—warm, kind, and great with Chloe. Until that night.At Lily’s, Chloe was excited. Lily invited her to play a game while we made dinner. Moments later, she returned, pale,
“Daddy, we have to go,” she whispered. “There are… heads in her closet. Real heads.”Heart pounding, I scooped her up and left.Later, after dropping Chloe at my mom’s, I returned. Hands shaking, I opened the closet.Four heads stared back—rubber Halloween masks.Relief hit me, but so did guilt.“You went through my closet?” Lily asked.“I had to be sure.”Chloe’s fear was real, even if unfounded. Now, I had to explain.
