Every morning, the nursery camera signal dropped while my mother cared for my sick wife. Suspecting something, I hid a secondary camera in the room. When I checked the feed the next day, I saw my mother standing over my wife, holding a syringe, and whispering, “This is for your own good…”
an appointment,” Chloe said flatly, her body language rigid as she pushed past our mother and stepped into the foyer.
Bernadette immediately sidestepped, attempting to physically block the base of the staircase. “Oh, honey, she really is not feeling up for visitors today. She’s incredibly fragile. The poor thing is upstairs resting.”
