Chapter 1 - The Question Emma Asked at the Coffins
My mother-in-law slapped me beside my sons’ coffins.
The sound cracked through St. Matthew’s Church in Dayton before the organist had even closed her music.
“God took them because He knew what kind of mother they had!”
My head snapped sideways.
My palm landed against the smooth white lid of Owen’s coffin.
“Will you at least be quiet today?” I whispered.
Margaret Hayes grabbed a fistful of my hair and forced me down until my shoulder struck the coffin.
“Shut up,” she hissed against my ear, “or you’ll end up in there.”
Trevor finally moved.
Not against his mother.
Against me.
My husband wrapped both hands around my upper arms and dragged me backward while I twisted free.
“Claire, stop.”
I knocked his hands away.
“Take your hands off me—this is my sons’ funeral!”
Our twins, Owen and Eli, had been five months old when Trevor found them unresponsive in their cribs twelve days earlier.
Two healthy babies.
Same room.
Same night.
The county medical examiner had not yet issued final causes of death.
Margaret had already issued hers.
Me.
She had spent twelve days telling relatives I had been exhausted, careless, overwhelmed, probably asleep when “something went wrong.”
Then our four-year-old daughter ran from the front pew.
Emma ignored me.
Ignored Trevor.
She grabbed Pastor Michael’s sleeve with both hands.
“Pastor?”
Every mourner turned.
Emma’s face was wet with tears.
“Do I have to tell everyone what Grandma put in the babies’ bottles?”
Margaret’s rage disappeared.
Not softened.
Disappeared.
Her face emptied.
Then she spun toward the church exit so abruptly she knocked a wooden chair sideways.
Trevor caught her wrist.
“Mom?”
Margaret jerked against him.
“Let go of me.”
I stared at my daughter.
“Emma, sweetheart—”
Pastor Michael raised one hand gently.
“Claire. Don’t question her here.”
He was right.
The detectives investigating two unexplained infant deaths had already warned us not to repeatedly question Emma about that night.
Margaret looked toward the doors again.
That was when I understood the most frightening thing in the church.
Emma’s question had not confused her.
May you like
It had terrified her.
And Trevor had seen that terror too.
