This year had already been heavy.

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 This year had already been heavy. James had taken that fancy promotion six months ago and had been splitting his time between cities ever since. He was gone half the week, every week.


The rhythms of our marriage changed in ways I hadn't prepared for.


"I'll call every night," he promised when it all started. But calls soon became texts, and texts became shorter.


While he was gone, I juggled everything alone. The house, my job, and Lily — our little tornado of energy and questions.


Lily needed explanations for everything from why the sky is blue to why grown-ups sometimes cry when they're alone.


Then Carol, my mother-in-law, started showing up more often.


"I brought lasagna," she announced one Tuesday afternoon, standing on our porch with a foil-covered dish. "James mentioned you were having a tough week."


I hadn't told James I was having a tough week. But I took the lasagna, anyway.


After that, she came regularly. She'd fold laundry while I cooked and read to Lily while I caught up on work emails. Sometimes she'd water the plants or organize a kitchen drawer without being asked.


"You don't have to keep coming over," I told her one day, though part of me hoped she wouldn't listen.


"Nonsense," Carol said, pushing hair behind her ear. "What else would I do? Watch game shows all day? I scaled back on my hours at the firm precisely so I could spend more time with my family."


Her voice was soft but firm — the voice that had raised James to be the man I married.


For weeks, I believed her visits were a thoughtful gesture, maybe even a silver lining in James's growing absence. Someone was seeing me struggle. Someone was helping.


Until yesterday.


I was loading the dishwasher while Carol sipped tea at our kitchen island.


Lily sat beside her grandmother, drawing pictures of what looked like purple cats. The dishwasher hummed. The clock ticked.


Then Lily looked up from her drawing. "Mommy, why does Grandma always take stuff from your bedroom?"


My hands froze on a dinner plate.


"What stuff, sweetie?" I asked, trying to sound casual.


Lily turned to Carol. "What do you hide in your purse?"


Carol choked on her tea, coughing hard.


The kitchen froze in perfect stillness. I could hear the hum of the refrigerator, suddenly loud as thunder.


"Lily, what do you mean?" I asked, my voice steady even as my heart wasn't.... (continue reading in the 1st comment

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