Two months passed and I hadn’t heard a word from Jaime. Every time the doorbell or the phone rang at odd hours, I shuddered, thinking it was the police telling me they found my daughter in a ditch. That thought haunted me when I slept and when I was awake. It’s a nightmare many parents share when their children are addicts.
It was a Saturday morning towards the end of summer. I was still in my pajamas, casually reading the newspaper and finishing my cup of coffee when the phone rang. I thought it might be Adam calling from Tennessee, but it wasn’t; it was Jaime. For the first time in a very long time, her voice wasn’t hoarse. She asked me to please just listen and not talk. Something inside me gave me a foreboding of what she was going to say. I held my breath.