My name is Hilda. I’m 60 years old, and what I’m about to tell you will forever change the way you see your own family. Just three days ago, my son Damian and my daughter-in-law Melissa pushed my husband Henry and me off a 90-foot cliff. As I lay there, broken and bleeding, I heard my husband’s desperate whisper, “Hilda, don’t move. Play dead.” But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was when Henry revealed the most terrible truth a mother could ever hear, a secret our children had kept for 25 years.
