Baylie quickly realized it was all a lie. The men had no intention of taking her to campus. They took her on a five-mile loop away from the college and offered her suspicious water. They stopped at one man’s apartment and Baylie waited in the car with the other man. He went inside for the water and handed it to Baylie, who was sitting between the two in the backseat.

Baylie suspected something was in the water, so she began texting her roommate. I’m with some “sketchy guys” who won’t share their real names. They are trying to get me to drink the water, too much. She spilled her water, which upset the men and the driver, who stopped the car. One of the men went straight into a club and got another water for Baylie, but she was gone by the time he came back. Shortly after the encounter, she displayed signs of further impairment, and her friends became worried. Unable to figure out how to use her phone app, she asked for help. “Come get me.” She said. “call an Uber.” her friend said. “I don’t know how?” she replied.

The sorority girls were three miles away. No one knew how to help. It was 3 am and pouring rain. They couldn’t know the danger that lay ahead. They had no resources, no ride to call on Baylie’s behalf, and no adult to ask for help. There was no mom to tell her to stay put, no amnesty that would apply, to avoid getting in trouble. No clear understanding of when to call 911. They were not prepared and they told Baylie to walk home.

Baylie was hit by a car and spent the following six weeks in the ICU, where we learned lessons about the healthcare system and the law that we didn’t anticipate. The truth about college transparency. Laws about amnesty, elicit drug testing and faulty investigations that would never lead to an arrest. The foundation was something we knew we had to launch.

Despite the pain, I am incredibly blessed to be Baylie’s mother. In this lifetime, and the next.