He loved Emily fiercely, but organization had never been his strength.
I was the opposite.
I kept calendars, checked school portals, scheduled appointments, and made sure Emily had everything she needed. If a permission slip required a signature, I signed it. If a teacher sent an email, I answered it. If Emily needed new shoes for school, I bought them before she had to ask twice.
Over time, I became the parent responsible for nearly everything that kept her life running.
Mark became the parent she visited on weekends, where bedtime was flexible, breakfast sometimes consisted of pancakes for dinner, and rules were occasionally treated as suggestions.
I resented that arrangement more than I liked to admit.
But I never doubted that Mark loved our daughter.
And I never imagined he would help her deceive me.
Emily had started ninth grade a few weeks earlier. At first, everything seemed normal.
