My fingers went cold. My heart hammered against my ribs, yet I could barely feel myself breathing. She was my granddaughter? And why was I being warned not to trust my own husband?
I gripped the phone so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Suddenly, every memory, every unexplained silence, every strange look I had dismissed over the years began to take on a different meaning. And for the first time in my life, I wondered whether the man I had trusted most was the one I should have feared all along.
For several seconds, I couldn’t even understand what I was reading.
Then I read it again.
And again.
My granddaughter.
I looked at the baby.