Chapter 5 - THE RESTAURANT PLACEMAT
From the hallway, I heard small feet on the floor. My son stood there holding his blanket, having overheard my sister’s voice through the speakerphone. When he asked if we were talking about Grandma, I crouched beside him and gently asked if she had ever treated him that way before when I wasn't looking. His eyes drifted toward the folded restaurant placemat resting on the couch, and with a quiet, hesitant voice, he whispered, “She does it when you go inside. She says I have to wait until the real kids are done.” Hearing those words made my blood run cold.
