—Pastor, do I have to tell everyone what Grandma put in the babies’ bottles?
The room did not remain silent.
The room ceased to exist as we knew it.
There was a strange noise, as if twenty people were trying to breathe at the same time and no one could find the right air.
The pastor leaned towards Emma with a distraught expression.
My father-in-law dropped the rosary.
Trevor’s aunt put her hand to her mouth.
And I… I felt the ground disappear beneath my feet.
Miriam paled unnaturally, as if all the blood had fled from her body, leaving only the old mask of control.
Trevor took a step towards Emma, but she stepped back.
That was perhaps the most appalling thing of all: he didn’t even run towards his father.
I already knew too much about who was safe and who wasn’t.
—Emma, my love, what are you saying?— asked the pastor in a barely audible voice.
My daughter was crying, but she was talking.
He spoke like children do when they still believe that telling the truth will finally make the right adults fix the world.
