My Stepfather Handcuffed Me During A Call Until Five Black SUVs Arrived

The chair. The cuff. The secure phone. The still-open call. Then her eyes settled on Kyle’s hand.

“Phone,” she said.

Kyle swallowed. “What?”

“The phone you used to record this incident. Place it on the table.”

Kyle looked at Frank. Wrong move. Agent Price said, “Now.” He placed it on the table.

My mother whispered, “Emily, I’m sorry.”

There would be time continue reading …