The Cruel Confession
“Mom… MOM!”
I dropped the groceries and sprinted down the hallway.
I found her on the floor of her room, sobbing uncontrollably. Her bed was empty, and her bag of completed hats was gone.
I kneeled beside her, pulling her close, trying to make sense of her muffled cries. Then I heard a sound behind me.
Carol was standing there, drinking tea from one of my best cups like she was auditioning to be a Victorian villain in a BBC drama.
“If you’re looking for the hats, I threw them away,” she announced. “They were a waste of time. Why should she spend money on strangers?”
“You threw away 80 hats meant for sick children?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, and it only got worse.
Carol rolled her eyes. “They were ugly. Mismatched colors and poor stitching… She’s not my blood, and doesn’t represent my family, but that doesn’t mean you should encourage her to be bad at useless hobbies.”
“They weren’t useless…” Emma whimpered, fresh tears spilling onto my shirt.
Carol let out a long-suffering sigh and left. Emma dissolved into hysterical sobbing, her heart shattered by Carol’s casual cruelty.
