When her husband leaves for a week, Angela braces herself for awkward days with her grieving mother-in-law. But a sudden, bizarre house rule forces her to choose between keeping the peace and protecting the family… leading to a discovery she can’t unsee.
My mother-in-law moved into our house with four suitcases, a box of framed photos, and the kind of quiet that turns a home into a hospital waiting room.
Cynthia said that she wanted to be closer to the kids, to hear their laughter in the mornings instead of her own footsteps echoing through the big house where my father-in-law, Frank, had died two months earlier.
“The silence makes me jumpy, Angela,” she said.
“I’ve been trying but I don’t think it’s doing me any good.”
I believed her.
Grief can rattle the hinges on the smallest door.
I was against the move, though I tried not to show it. I like my home tidy in ways that have nothing to do with piles or mess.
I like predictable rhythms, evenings without arguments, and a towel rack where towels are always hung properly, not left to chance.
My husband, Malcolm, asked me to make room for a few months.
…The story doesn’t end here, it continues on the next page 👇
