My daughter woke me up at 2 AM, crying in pain and whispering, “Mom, there are little fish swimming inside my stomach.” Hours later, the X-ray revealed 36 swallowing magnets tearing her apart. My husband immediately pointed his finger at me, screaming, “You’ve always hated her! What did you do to her?” I stayed completely silent. I pulled out my phone, turned the screen toward the detective, and said, “Don’t ask me. Ask the person sitting in my seat at the dinner table.”
right now,” I announced, my voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm register.
Evelyn’s fake tears vanished instantly. Her eyes bulged with sudden panic. “How can you possibly even think about leaving the hospital while poor Nancy is lying in recovery? What kind of monster are you?” she hissed, her voice vibrating with genuine anxiety.
