When I married Travis, I believed I had found a man who put family first. He spoke so lovingly of his daughter Lily that I wanted to do everything possible to support them. That’s why, after he told me Lily had suffered a serious bike accident and needed costly therapy to walk again, I didn’t hesitate. I poured my life savings and inheritance into her recovery, convinced that no price was too high to help a child heal.
Over the course of a year, I sacrificed more than $85,000, along with my dream of opening a bakery. But as time passed, doubt began to creep in. Lily seemed healthy whenever I saw her, yet Travis always insisted she was in pain and needed more treatment. He made endless excuses about why I couldn’t attend her therapy sessions, and the inconsistencies slowly gnawed at me until the truth began to unravel.