MY OWN DAUGHTER ACCIDENTALLY SENT ME A VOICE MEMO ABOUT HAVING ME DECLARED “CONFUSED,” FORGING THE DEED TO MY HOUSE, AND LOCKING ME AWAY IN A FACILITY FOR $800 A MONTH—SO AT DAWN I PUT ON MY CRIMSON SUIT, WALKED INTO THE BANK, SHUT DOWN EVERY FAKE AUTHORIZATION, GOT THE FORGED SIGNATURES IN MY HAND, AND SPENT THE NEXT 24 HOURS BUILDING A CASE SHE’D NEVER SEE COMING; THEN, JUST AS JENNA AND HER HUSBAND SAT IN MY LIVING ROOM DRINKING COFFEE LIKE THEY ALREADY OWNED MY LIFE, MY LAWYER, A NOTARY, AND TWO POLICE OFFICERS WALKED THROUGH MY FRONT DOOR—AND I PRESSED PLAY ON HER OWN VOICE.
The sound itself was small. That is what I remember first. Not the words. Not the coldness in my daughter’s…