Chapter 1 - The Gift Basket Hit the Floor
The leather strap came down before Bernadette Hale had both feet inside her son's house.
She stopped in the foyer of the Brookfield, Wisconsin, home with a wicker birthday basket balanced against her hip.
Eight-year-old Milo was on the family-room rug beside the sectional, crying so hard his breath kept catching. Colby stood over him, face flushed, the strap hanging from one hand.
“Now you know to keep your mouth shut!”
Before Bernadette could move, Colby shoved Milo back toward the rug.
Shana caught the boy by his shirt, pulled him toward her, and struck his cheek with an open hand.
The basket fell.
A stuffed bear rolled beneath the entry table. Two wrapped presents split open against the hardwood.
Bernadette crossed the room so fast Colby barely turned before she slapped him.
Then she slapped Shana.
“Get your filthy hands off my grandson!”
She dropped to her knees and pulled Milo against her plum cardigan. His arms locked around her neck.
Shana reached for him.
Bernadette knocked her hand away.
“Neither of you deserves to be called a parent.”
“You're not taking him anywhere,” Shana snapped.
Bernadette stood with Milo behind her.
Colby stepped forward.
For a second, Bernadette expected him to argue about discipline, disrespect, family privacy—every excuse she'd heard him use whenever his temper frightened people.
Instead he stared past her at Milo.
Something uglier than anger moved across his face.
He turned toward Shana.
“Look at him, Mother. Does he look anything like me?”
Shana's expression changed.
Not confusion.
May you like
Not outrage.
Fear.
