At 12:43 a.m, my 16-year-old daughter called from the curb outside our own house after my in-laws locked her out, stuffed her backpack and pajamas into a grocery bag, and gave her bedroom to Avery.
PART 3 The lawyer’s name was Caroline Bennett, and she had the calmest voice I had ever heard from any woman. I sat across from her in a small downtown Portland, Maine office, Grace...