For 4 years, I picked up my sister’s kids from school for free. One day I was 37 minutes late, and she screamed at me in front of them: “Not with my children!” Then she shoved me out of her house. I stopped picking them up. 11 days later, the school called me. Then my sister called 6 times. I turned my phone face down.

That night, someone pounded on my apartment door.

I knew who it was before she spoke.

“OPEN THE DOOR, MICAH!”

Nicole sounded furious.

I stood in the hallway without moving.

“You lied to me!” she shouted. “You gave them your bank statements! You deliberately set me up!”

I rested one hand against the wall.

“Nicole, talk to your attorney.”

She hit the door again.

“You’re destroying my family!”

I didn’t answer.

For a while, she continued yelling.

Then her voice broke.

I heard her crying.

Eventually, her footsteps disappeared down the stairwell.

Only then did I sit down.

My hands began trembling.

For weeks, I’d remained composed.

Now that the confrontation was over, everything I’d been holding inside came rushing out.

The next morning, Mom called.

“Nicole’s attorney is withdrawing,” she said.

I closed my eyes.

“Okay.”

“Micah, she has a hearing in six days! What have you done?”