Chapter 2 - WHAT MOM KNEW

The front door slammed hard enough to shake the wreath.

Emma was still crying.

I barely heard her.

I looked at my mother. "What did she mean?"

Mom's face had gone pale.

"Nothing. Lauren was angry."

"She said the last time I trusted her with a baby. What baby?"

James took Emma from me gently, bouncing her against his shoulder while keeping his eyes on my mother.

"Carol," he said, "answer her."

Mom's lips tightened. "This is Christmas. We are not doing this now."

I laughed once, without humor. "My sister just hit my infant daughter at your dinner table. Christmas is already ruined."

Dad stood. "Sarah, lower your voice."

"No."

That word surprised even me.

And now my child had paid the price for our family's favorite habit: pretending Lauren's cruelty was just a personality flaw.

"Tell me," I said.

Mom looked toward the hallway.

James shifted Emma higher. Her cries had softened into exhausted hiccups.

Finally Mom whispered, "When you were sixteen, I used to babysit your cousin Noah."

I frowned. "I remember."

"One afternoon I left Lauren alone with him for twenty minutes."

My stomach tightened.

"He was ten months old," Mom continued. "When I came back, he was screaming. Lauren said he'd fallen from the couch."

"And?"

Dad cut in. "It was investigated. Nothing was proven."

I looked at him. "Investigated by who?"

No one answered.

My mother began to cry.

"Noah had a fractured arm," she whispered.

The room seemed to tilt.

James stopped bouncing Emma.

I stared at my parents. "You knew she might have hurt a baby before, and you let her hold mine?"

Mom shook her head desperately. "We didn't know. We convinced ourselves we didn't know."

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Then Dad said something that made the room colder.

"That wasn't the only incident."