No words came out.
Evelyn recovered first. People like her always do.
She stood tall, lifting her chin. “You can’t prove intent. Babies die. Mothers make mistakes. Everyone knows she was careless.”
Nicole looked toward me. “Hannah, do you have the funeral recording?”
I connected my phone to the television.
Evelyn’s voice filled the living room.
“God took them because He knew what kind of mother you were.”
Then the slap.
The impact.
The threat.
“Stay quiet, or you’ll join them.”
