He didn’t answer.
That night, I told my husband I could no longer accept all this secrecy.
He looked at me for a long moment.
“Margaret, if you knew the whole truth, you’d understand.”
“Then tell me!”
“I can’t. Not yet.”
Those words frightened me even more.
The following week, Emily stopped going to school.
When I returned home from work, I found her lying in bed.
Her face was unusually pale, and her lips had almost no color.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“I’m just tired, Mommy.”
I walked over to adjust her pillow.
And that’s when I noticed two small bloodstains on her white bedsheet.
My hands went cold.
“Emily, have you been bleeding?”
My daughter immediately pulled the blanket over the stains.
“Please, Mommy, don’t be angry with Daddy.”