[ WP ] You walk into your toddler daughter 's room to see her strangling her favorite doll . She looks at you and says , `` It wo n't stop crying ... ''

`` Oh, honey...'' 
 
 The doll Ashley held in her grip did have tear stains. I pried it from her fingers, which slowly lost their resistance as the tears poured faster and faster off Ashley's face. It hurt to look at, but I checked her neck. The bruises were starting to heal, slowly, but for now they remained ugly purple marks on my beautiful daughter. 
 
 I read to her while we waited, and she fell into an uneasy sleep. My phone buzzed. I went to the front door, where Eric, the neighbor's son, stood. 
 
 `` She's already asleep. Just... watch her, and let me know if anything comes up.'' 
 
 He nodded solemnly, eyes wide. I knew he was probably wondering what was wrong with us, measuring just how broken we were. I left my house, angry thoughts surrounding me, walking to visit my wife in jail.
