I woke up from surgery to find my four-year-old son abandoned on a hospital bench, crying into my coat….

Mom sighed. “You’re emotional. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“No,” I said. “We won’t.”

That night, I signed myself out of the hospital against medical advice, held Eli on my lap in the taxi, and went home. The porch light was on. My mother’s casserole sat on the steps like an insult. I called a locksmith. He arrived at 10:47 p.m. and changed every lock while Eli slept on the couch.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked gently.

“Yes.”