I confided in my son’s pediatrician. His face grew ashen and implored me to seek the help of the Women’s Alliance (WOMA). “Your son is not growing up in that environment,” he said.
Your muscles hurt. Your lungs hurt. Your skin hurts. Lastly, your heart hurts.
The police report had the basics: my name, the department’s logo, and my statement, neatly typed. But there was more: it included Next Door Solutions’ information. I am eternally grateful it did.