As I drove to the hospital, I couldn’t stop smiling. Today, I was bringing home my daughters!
Rushing to Suzie’s room, I froze when I found it empty. My daughters were asleep in their bassinets, but Suzie was gone. Then I saw the note:
“Goodbye. Take care of them. Ask your mother WHY she did this to me.”
A nurse walked in. “Your wife checked out this morning. She said you knew.”
I left in a daze, cradling my daughters and clutching the note. When I got home, my mom, Mandy, stood on the porch.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, holding a casserole dish.
I shoved the note at her. “This! What did you do to Suzie?”
“Ben, I have no idea what this is about,” she said, defensive.
“You’ve always undermined her, always criticized her,” I accused.
“I only wanted to help,” she said, crying.
That night, I found a letter in my mother’s handwriting addressed to Suzie. I read it, heart sinking.
