By the time the cupcake hit my daughter’s face, I knew something inside me had snapped for good. Lily had gone very still. That was the worst part. Six-year-olds cry when they’re hurt. They scream, they wail, they run to you with open arms. They don’t go silent and stare at nothing with frosting dripping off their chin. But that’s exactly what my child did on the concrete floor of the pavilion I’d rented for $5,500 to celebrate her birthday. Just ten minutes earlier, she’d been bouncing in place