My kids and grandkids hadn’t visited me for months, always saying they were too busy. Last weekend, I decided to visit them myself. My son opened the door, and I gasped in horror when I saw my daughter-in-law.
She looked like a shadow of the woman I once knew—pale, thin, eyes hollow. Her clothes hung off her like they didn’t belong to her body anymore. She smiled weakly, but I could see the effort behind it.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, barely above a whisper. I stepped inside their house, immediately noticing how quiet it was. The kids weren’t screaming or playing like usual.
No cartoons on the TV, no music in the background—just a heavy silence that didn’t sit right. “Where are the kids?” I asked my son, trying not to sound too alarmed. “They’re at a friend’s house,” he replied, avoiding eye contact.
“Just for the weekend.”
That struck me as odd. All three kids, gone for the weekend? That never happened.
…The story doesn’t end here, it continues on the next page 👇
