She nodded.
“I was afraid to show you.”
“Why?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Because I didn’t know if you would believe me.”
I didn’t answer immediately.
Not because I doubted her.
Because I was ashamed that she had ever needed to wonder.
I forwarded every message to my own phone, then uploaded copies to a secure drive.
The locksmith called.
“Every exterior lock has been replaced,” he said. “Nobody can use the old keys.”
I thanked him.
Then I turned back to Emma.
“We’re not going home tonight.”
She looked relieved.
The next morning, my mother arrived at the hospital.
She came with Caleb, Denise, and two other relatives.
Security stopped them at the entrance.
My mother demanded to see her daughter-in-law.
“She is carrying my grandchild.”
The security officer calmly asked whether Emma had authorized visitors.
My mother went silent.
Then her phone rang.
It was me.
