"The person they're attacking isn't who you are either," Mikel said quietly. "The cold, calculating woman in these stories... that's not the mother I've watched with Emma. That's not the woman who stays up all night when Emma's sick, or who researches every ingredient in her food, or who reads three bedtime stories."
"But what if people believe it? What if the CPS worker believes it?"
"Then we show them the truth. We show them Emma—happy, healthy, loved. We show them the home you've built, the life you've given her, the mother you are."
I wanted to believe him, but I was scared. "What if that's not enough? What if someone with enough money and influence can make lies look like truth?"
Mikel took my hand. "Then we fight. With everything we have. Because that little girl upstairs deserve
