Chapter 1 - The Nod
My husband nodded. Then his mother pushed me.
That was the part I kept seeing after everything else became noise.
I was eight months pregnant, carrying a cardboard box of baby clothes up the stairs in Ethan’s childhood home outside Boston. Tiny socks, folded blankets, a yellow sleeper with ducks on it. Ordinary things. Safe things.
Margaret stepped into my path on the landing.
“You really think having his baby makes you family?” she asked.
I shifted the box against my hip. “Please, Margaret. Not today.”
“You’ve been poisoning my son against me since the wedding.”
“I’m not doing this.”
I tried to move around her. She caught my wrist.
“Let go.”
Her grip tightened.
I looked past her—and saw Ethan through the open doorway at the end of the hall.
For one stupid second, relief hit me. My husband was here. He would stop this.
Margaret glanced over her shoulder.
Ethan met her eyes.
And nodded.
It was small. Almost nothing. A dip of his chin.
Then Margaret put both hands against me.
The box flew first.
I missed the top step, hit the next one sideways, and the world turned into wood, pain, and white flashes. My shoulder slammed the wall. My hip struck the railing post. I curled around my stomach before I hit the bottom.
“My baby,” I gasped.
The house went silent.
Margaret came down slowly, one hand sliding along the banister.
She crouched beside me without touching me.
“Tell Ethan you slipped,” she whispered.
I stared at her. “You pushed me.”
Her face stayed perfectly calm.
I screamed.
The front door banged open.
Ethan ran in as if he had just arrived.
“Claire!” He dropped beside me. “What happened?”
Before I could answer, Margaret burst into tears.
“She threw herself down,” she cried. “I tried to stop her!”
May you like
I looked at my husband.
He looked at his mother first.
