I picked up my niece from daycare, and her teacher handed me an urgent envelope. Inside was a crayon drawing with the words, “My uncle told me to never say…” and a sketch of a man shushing a child. My heart sank. My niece’s mom’s brother-in-law, Reggie, had always made me uneasy—too friendly, too clingy.
When I asked my niece about the drawing, she said it was “just pretend,” but she seemed scared. Later, my sister revealed my niece had night terrors and bedwetting. After pediatrician and therapy visits, my niece confessed Reggie was sneaking into her room, telling her it was a secret game.
Divya confronted her husband Malik, who initially didn’t believe it. But when confronted, Reggie refused to leave. I showed up, packed his things, and gave him an hour to leave, warning of child services if he didn’t comply. He left that night.
Weeks later, Reggie was arrested in a sting operation for targeting minors online. The drawing became key evidence at trial. Slowly, my niece began to heal. One day, she asked me to help draw a superhero who tells the truth and helps kids.
That drawing started everything. Kids don’t always speak plainly—they leave clues. We have to listen, especially when they don’t say it aloud.
