Chapter 1 - The Stolen Keys
My mother reached deep into her leather purse with a frantic and erratic energy.
I genuinely thought she was looking for a tissue to wipe away her angry tears.
Instead she pulled out a familiar silver keyring that made the blood in my veins run completely cold.
They were the spare keys to my husband's heavy sport utility vehicle.
I had explicitly confiscated those keys six months ago after she backed into our neighbor's brick fence.
She must have stolen them back from my locked desk drawer when I was busy upstairs.
Before I could even process what was happening she shoved past me with surprising strength.
She marched straight out the front door and hit the electronic unlock button on the key fob.
The heavy vehicle chirped brightly in the driveway under the afternoon sun.
My husband shouted for her to stop as he pressed a bloody towel to his injured temple.
He handed our crying son to me and sprinted out the front door to intercept her.
My mother scrambled into the driver's seat and locked the heavy doors from the inside.
She started the massive engine with a deafening roar that echoed through the quiet neighborhood.
My husband slammed his bare hands against the driver's side window and begged her to turn the car off.
She looked at him with an absolute and terrifying emptiness in her eyes.
She slammed the gearshift into reverse and hit the gas pedal incredibly hard.
The heavy side mirror violently clipped my husband's shoulder and threw him backward onto the hard concrete.
I screamed his name in terror as the vehicle screeched backward into the suburban street.
She shifted into drive and sped away until she completely disappeared into the busy afternoon traffic.
I dropped to my knees beside my husband to check if he was severely injured.
He groaned and sat up slowly while rubbing his bruised shoulder.
He assured me he was fine but insisted we still needed to get our son to the emergency room immediately.
I rushed back into the house to grab my son's emergency medical binder from the kitchen counter.
I opened the thick folder to grab his health insurance cards and his vital pediatric records.
The clear plastic sleeves inside the heavy binder were completely empty.
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My mother had not just taken the car keys from my locked desk.
She had intentionally stolen all of our son's identity documents and his original birth certificate.
