I stood at the bottom of the stairs, mouth open. I didn’t dare call out a second time. Because I knew—every shout out of my mouth was one more piece of “emotionally unstable” evidence for the doctor tomorrow.
My husband stood at the foot of the stairs. He didn’t reach for me.
Not one word came out.Sophie slept upstairs for two nights. On the morning of the third day, I went up to get her.
The door opened, and there was June in a floral dress, standing in the entryway, smiling. She stepped aside and waved me into the living room. “Perfect timing. The doctor’s here.”
A man in a gray suit sat on the couch, a notebook open on his knee. He got to his feet when he saw me. “Mrs. Vance? I’m Dr. Lee. Your mother-in-law brought me in. Please, sit.”
I stayed in the doorway. “I don’t need a doctor. I need my daughter.”
