I was chopping vegetables when my four-year-old daughter

if I tell you, you’ll get sick because of me.”

I bit my lips so I wouldn’t scream.

“Go get it, baby. I’m right here.”

She ran down the hallway.

I stayed alone in the kitchen, my hands pressed against the counter, my heart pounding in my throat.

And then I remembered everything.

The long naps.

The empty look in her eyes.

Diane’s little comments.

“I gave her continue reading …