My husband, Michael, was supposed to be home in about forty minutes.
My mother-in-law, Diane, had been staying with us for almost a month while she recovered from knee surgery.
Nothing about the evening looked dangerous.
Nothing looked wrong.
Then Emma tugged on my shirt.
I looked down.
She was staring at me with the serious expression children sometimes wear when they are trying to decide whether an adult can handle the truth.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Can I stop taking the pills Grandma gives me?”
My knife stopped against the cutting board.
For a second, I honestly didn’t understand the question.
“What pills?”
She looked toward the hallway.
“Grandma’s pills.”
I put the knife down.
“Emma, what do you mean?”
Her fingers tightened around my shirt.
“The ones before bed.”
I crouched in front of her.
“Sweetheart, what does Grandma give you?”
She looked nervous.
“The little ones.”
I tried to keep my voice calm.
“Are they vitamins?”
She nodded.
“Grandma said they’re special vitamins.”
That answer should have reassured me.
Instead, something inside me tightened.
I had heard Diane mention vitamins before.
She had told me that Emma was becoming difficult at bedtime. She said children needed structure. She said Emma was becoming too energetic and needed something to help her settle down.
I like reading the novels
Good story ml ending