My Daughter Asked to Stop Grandma’s Pills Then the kertati Doctor Shook

“Mommy… can I stop taking Grandma’s pills?”

At the time, I had been standing in our kitchen chopping carrots.

The pan on the stove was filled with onions, celery, garlic, and chicken. The smell of dinner had filled the house. The dishwasher was running. Emma’s coloring books were spread across the table.

It had been an ordinary Tuesday.

My husband, Michael, was supposed to be home in about forty minutes.