I don’t sleep well this weekend. For one thing, any time I have to abruptly change Jake’s plans, it’s fraught. I’m so tired, mentally, and he needs to ask me a lot of questions over and over again to feel reassured about what to expect on Monday.

”What is the statistical likelihood Dad will send me away?” He looks so young, so vulnerable. I pull him into my arms and promise him I will never let that happen. I do it again and again, right up ...