I was beyond excited when I finally sent out my wedding invitations. Each one had a photo of me and my fiancé, Will, smiling together. I couldn’t wait for my three best friends — Emma, Rachel, and Tara — to see them. I imagined them squealing, calling me, maybe even planning little surprises for me like we always did for each other. But instead of joy, I got silence. Days passed. And then, one by one, they backed out of my wedding with excuses so flimsy they made no sense.

When my four-year-old daughter, Chloe, begged me to leave my girlfriend Lily’s house, I knew something was terribly wrong. Her fear wasn’t like the usual little-kid fears. It was raw and shaking, and no matter how badly I wanted to calm her down, the urgency in her trembling voice made my stomach twist. “Chloe, don’t forget your jacket,” I called while grabbing my car keys from the counter. “I don’t need it, Daddy!” she shouted back from the closet. I could hear her rummaging around for her favorite sparkly sneakers.

Arlene was both nervous and proud that morning. She was sending her seven-year-old son, Justin, on a plane all by himself. He was flying from Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport in Virginia to see his father, Pierce, in Orlando. It was the first time Justin had ever traveled alone, and even though he was excited, Arlene’s heart felt heavy. Luckily, the airline attendant was kind and reassuring.“Don’t worry, Mrs. Cardigan,” the woman told her gently. “Many kids his age fly alone every single day. He’ll be escorted the whole time,