“You let her sit outside alone,” I said, my voice trembling with restrained fury. “You let a little girl cry in the backyard so you could enjoy your cake in peace. You see my child as…
a stranger? You’re pathetic, Carol. And you should be ashamed of yourself, Sarah.
You’re a mother and this is how you behave?”
I turned and walked out, not because I was done speaking, but because if I stayed, I was going to make a scene no one would forget. Nobody said a word. Ellie clung to Daniel the entire drive home, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck like she was afraid he might disappear.
Every few minutes, she’d reach out and touch my shoulder. My husband held her with one arm and kept whispering soothing words into her hair. When we parked, I climbed into the backseat with them, brushing strands from her sticky cheeks, murmuring over and over that she was safe.
“I’m proud of you, baby,” I whispered. “You did nothing wrong. You were so, so brave.”
Her head leaned against my shoulder, but she didn’t speak.
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