Chapter 2 - THE BOTTLE THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN EMPTYThe police separated everyone.
The funeral chapel suddenly felt like a crime scene.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
One officer asked me questions while another spoke with Trevor.
I answered everything I could.
What time had the twins gone to sleep?
Who had been in the house?
What had they eaten?
Who had prepared their bottles?
Then came the question that made my stomach twist.
“Did Evelyn have access to your home?”
I stared at the detective.
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Almost every day.”
“Did she ever prepare bottles?”
I hesitated.
“Yes.”
The detective wrote something down.
“Mrs. Carter, we need to ask you something difficult.”
“Please.”
“Were there any signs of conflict between you and your mother-in-law?”
I laughed bitterly.
“Signs?”
I told him everything.
The criticism.
The arguments.
The comments about my parenting.
The strange things Evelyn had said after the twins were born.
But I didn't tell him the most disturbing thing.
Two weeks before the twins died, Evelyn had asked me something strange.
She had asked whether I would ever consider sending the twins to live with her temporarily.
I had said no.
She had smiled.
“You may change your mind.”
At the time, I thought she was simply being controlling.
Now I wasn't so sure.
Across the chapel, Trevor sat alone.
His face looked destroyed.
I wanted to hate him for defending his mother.
But he was still the father of my children.
And grief made everything complicated.
The detective approached Emma.
He crouched down.
“Emma, can you tell me where you saw Grandma?”
Emma pointed toward me.
“At home.”
“What part of the house?”
“The kitchen.”
“Was Mommy there?”
Emma shook her head.
“She was sleeping.”
“And Daddy?”
“Daddy was gone.”
I frowned.
Trevor had told me he had been working late that night.
He had said he'd stayed at the office until nearly midnight.
But Emma continued.
“Grandma came through the back door.”
Trevor suddenly stood.
“She couldn't have.”
Everyone looked at him.
“What?”
Trevor swallowed.
“My mother doesn't have a key.”
I stared at him.
“Yes, she does.”
His eyes met mine.
“I gave her one.”
My heart sank.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I didn't think it mattered.”
The detective exchanged a look with his partner.
Then he asked Emma another question.
“What did Grandma do after she came inside?”
Emma looked frightened.
“She told me to stay quiet.”
“Why?”
“She gave me cookies.”
“What happened next?”
“She went to the babies.”
My breath caught.
“She opened the bottles.”
Evelyn screamed from across the room.
“Enough!”
The detective turned.
“Mrs. Carter, please remain quiet.”
“She is a child!”
“Yes,” he said calmly.
“And that's why we're taking her statement carefully.”
Emma suddenly looked at me.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Am I in trouble?”
I rushed to her.
“No.”
She wrapped her arms around my waist.
“You're not in trouble.”
She whispered into my dress.
“Grandma said I wasn't allowed to tell.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why?”
“Because she said Mommy would be taken away.”
My heart stopped.
Trevor looked like someone had punched him.
“What?”
Emma pointed at Evelyn.
“She said if I told, Mommy would go to jail.”
Evelyn's expression changed.
The detective noticed.
“That's enough.”
He signaled another officer.
“Take Mrs. Carter aside.”
Two officers approached Evelyn.
She began screaming.
“You're making a mistake!”
But nobody listened.
As they escorted her away, she looked at Trevor.
“Don't believe her!”
Trevor didn't answer.
The chapel doors closed behind her.
For the first time since my sons died, I felt something other than grief.
Hope.
Not because I wanted revenge.
Because I wanted answers.
The detective returned.
“We're going to search your home tonight.”
I nodded.
Then he added something that made my blood run cold.
“We also need to search Evelyn's house.”
“Why?”
He looked at me.
“Because your daughter mentioned a powder.”
He paused.
“We've already received the preliminary toxicology report.”
My knees almost gave out.
“What did it say?”
The detective's expression hardened.
“There was evidence that your sons had been exposed to a foreign substance.”
Trevor covered his mouth.
“Are you saying they were poisoned?”
“We're not ready to use that word yet.”
“But?”
“But the deaths are no longer being treated as unexplained natural deaths.”
I looked toward the coffins.
My sons.
Someone had taken them from me.
Someone had decided they shouldn't live.
And the person who had stood over their coffins blaming me might have known exactly why.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I opened the message.
There was only one sentence.
You are looking in the wrong house.
My blood ran cold.
A second message arrived.
Ask your husband where he was that night.
I slowly looked across the room at Trevor.
He was staring at me.
May you like
And from the expression on his face...
I knew he had seen the message too.
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