“You take care of our baby,” I whispered to her as we said goodbye.

She smiled. “Of course, dear. He’s family.”

I trusted her.

The next day, my phone rang at breakfast. Timmy’s name flashed on the screen.

“Mom?” His voice sounded small and scared.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Can you… Can you come and pick me up from Grandma’s?”

I set down my coffee cup. “What happened, sweetie?”

“Grandma just… doesn’t like me. I don’t want to be here. The things she’s doing…”

The line went dead.