Timmons looked toward Lydia, who was sitting beside a hospital social worker.Plan Family Trips
“Children can misunderstand adult arguments.”
Something inside me went cold.
My daughter had suffered serious injuries. My granddaughter had called 911 in a panic. My grandson had been born weeks early because of what had happened.
And this deputy was already talking as though it were nothing more than a domestic squabble.
Before I could respond, the hospital social worker stepped between us.
She made it clear that Lydia would not be questioned casually in a hallway. Any interview would need to take place in a protected setting with a trained child interviewer, and her account would be properly documented.
Timmons didn’t look pleased.
He scribbled something in his notebook, closed it, and walked away.Find Family Lawyer
I watched him disappear down the corridor.
I had spent most of my life believing that a badge meant someone had a duty to protect the vulnerable. That night, for the first time, I wondered whether the person wearing it might be more interested in protecting a friend.
