At my twins’ funeral, my mother-in-law spoke words so cruel the room went completely still.

Diane’s face went white. She stepped toward Emma, reaching out. “Emma, sweetheart, you’re confused. You’re traumatized. Come to Grandma.”

“No!” Emma cried, ducking behind the pastor’s legs. “I’m not confused! I saw you!”

“Saw what, Emma?” Trevor asked, his voice unsteady. He looked from his mother to his daughter, the first crack forming in his wall of denial.

“I saw Grandma in the kitchen,” Emma said quickly, the words spilling out like she’d been holding them in too long. “I came downstairs because I was thirsty. Grandma was on the phone. She said mean things. She said Mommy was bad. She said the babies would be better off in Heaven.”

“That is a lie!” Diane screamed, her composure collapsing. “She’s making it up!”

“Then she took the white powder,” Emma went on, her voice shaking but loud. “From the jug in the garage. The blue jug with the skull on it. She put the white powder in the bottles. Special bottles. She mixed it with the milk and shook it real good. She said it was ‘sleeping medicine’ so Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t have to worry about money anymore.”

My heart stopped. The air vanished from the room.
The blue jug in the garage.

Continue reading…