"Alright," the voice on the other end of the line said. "I'm on my way over."

My head was spinning as I hung up the phone. I sat down and tried to collect my thoughts. Deep in my heart, I always knew this day would come. I hadn't seen or heard from my daughter, Susan, in ten long years. She was just a kid when she got involved with that bastard, Jimmy. From the first time I laid eyes on him, I knew he was trouble. Susan wouldn't listen though. As far as she was concerned, I only existed to make her life miserable. Well, it turns out I was right after all. Jimmy now sat in the county jail. A cold cup of comfort.

I still remember the night she left like it was yesterday. Jimmy brought her home well after midnight. I met them out on the front porch. "I can't take this anymore, Susan. You're not seeing him again."

Jimmy laughed. "I think she's got something to show you, Mom. Go ahead, babe, show her."

Susan giggled as she unbuttoned her shirt. "Jimmy says I'm his little butterfly."

"You sure are, babe," Jimmy said, rubbing his finger over the tattoo on her left breast. "All mine."

I felt the rage boiling inside me. "Are you crazy?!" I screamed. "Get in the house, Susan! And you" I glared at Jimmy. "You get outta here!"

Susan only clung tighter to him. "We're in love, Mom, and we're going to be together."

"Have you lost your mind?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You're only seventeen years old. You don't have any idea what love is. He doesn't care about you."

"I'm not a little girl anymore!"

Jimmy took my daughter's hands in his. "Come with me now, Susan. We can leave tonight. You don't need this crap."

He led Susan, crying, toward his car. Jimmy winked at me over his shoulder. "Butterflies need to be free."

I called the police, but teenage runaways didn't take much priority. I hired a private investigator who found them living in a trailer in Vegas, dealing drugs. Susan refused to speak to me. Over the years, I tried a few more times, but to no avail. Susan ignored my messages. Jimmy just laughed. Now, I would finally see her again.

The doorbell rang, and I let the young woman inside. "I'm so sorry," she said.

We sat on the couch, and she pulled an envelope from her pocket. "It appears to be a drug overdose. If you can identify the body from these photographs, a trip downtown won't be necessary. You said there was a tattoo?"

My whole body shook. Tears filled my eyes and spilled over onto the picture.

"Are you positive?" the police officer asked.

I nodded. "Susan's a butterfly, and now she's finally free."

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