I’ve always tried to be a modern, trusting parent — the kind who gives privacy instead of policing every move. My daughter is fourteen, right on that edge between childhood and everything that comes next. Her boyfriend, also fourteen, is polite, gentle, the kind of kid every parent approves of… until he’s behind a closed bedroom door with your daughter. They had been in her room for almost an hour. No sounds. No movement. Just silence — the kind that makes a parent’s imagination panic.
