All I could do was lie there, stewing in anger and worry, tossing and turning in bed.

I didn’t sleep a wink.

The next morning at breakfast, I walked out of my room with dark circles under my eyes, and Sandra, my son, and I met again.

Sandra was sitting in my son’s lap, beaming as she saw me.

My son initially looked down sheepishly, but he quickly lifted his head and wrapped his arms around Sandra’s waist.

It seemed Sandra ...