Part 2: The Uncle Who Came Back Too Early
Ellie ran to the bed and tried to pull Lacey away from her father.
“You can’t kiss my daddy! My daddy is married to my mommy!”
Lacey’s smile vanished.
“Ellie, stop acting like this.”
But my daughter kept pulling at her arm.
“Mommy’s downstairs! Mommy’s sick!”
Lacey tried to push her off.
Desperate, the little girl bit her hand.
“Ow!” Lacey screamed.
She shoved her so hard that Ellie fell against the edge of the bed.
I heard the thud.
I threw myself toward her, trying to shield her head, but my body no longer existed in the world of the living.
My little girl curled up in pain.
Grant sat up immediately.
For a second I thought he would rush to help her.
I was wrong.
First he took Lacey’s hand and looked over the teeth marks.
“Did she hurt you?”
Lacey nodded, her eyes full of tears.
“It doesn’t matter. I know Claire doesn’t like me, but I never imagined she’d teach her daughter to attack me.”
My husband turned to Ellie.
“Come here!”
He jerked her up roughly by one arm.
“Who taught you to bite people?”
“Daddy, she was kissing you…”
“Be quiet!”
Ellie flinched.
Grant pointed at Lacey.
“Apologize right now.”
My girl glanced toward the door.
“But Mommy…”
“I said apologize!”
Her father’s voice made her tremble.
I knelt in front of her.
“No, sweetheart. You don’t have to say sorry for defending Mommy.”
But Ellie couldn’t hear me.
In the end, she bowed her head.
“Sorry, Aunt Lacey.”
My heart broke all over again.
The little girl timidly gripped Grant’s shirt.
“Daddy, I said sorry. Can we go help Mommy now?”
She said it with such sincere hope that it hurt to look at her.
She believed that if she obeyed, her father would finally listen.
But Lacey held a hand to her wrist.
“Grant, it hurts so much. I think you should get me something for the wound.”
He let go of Ellie.
“Go downstairs to your mother and stop bothering us.”
He shut the door.
My daughter stood motionless for a few seconds, staring at the wood.
Then she went down the stairs alone.
Every step was too tall for her little legs.
I walked beside her, holding out my hands uselessly in case she stumbled.
When she reached the dining room, she ran to my body.
“Mommy, I said sorry.”
She lay down next to me.
“But Daddy didn’t want to come.”
I kissed her forehead again and again, though she couldn’t feel it.
“I know, my love. You did everything right.”
Ellie touched my fingers.
“Mommy, your hands are really cold.”
She went to the sofa, found her pink coat, and spread it over my chest.
Then she dragged over another blanket and crawled under it with me.
At midnight, my mother-in-law came down for water.
Seeing Ellie curled up beside me, she clicked her tongue.
“Just as stubborn as her mother.”
She switched off the last lamp.
And left a three-year-old girl hugging her mother’s corpse.
The Call Nobody Wanted to Make
I don’t know how much time went by.
After I died, minutes stopped making sense.
All I could do was watch Ellie fight sleep.
Each time she closed her eyes, she jolted awake again.
“Mommy…”
She touched my cheek.
“Are you better now?”
When there was no answer, she pressed her small ear against my chest.
She had learned that gesture playing with her teddy bear and a toy stethoscope.
But this time she heard no heartbeat.
The little girl frowned.
“Mommy, your heart isn’t going boom, boom.”
She sat up, frightened.
She looked toward the stairs.
And called again:
“Daddy!”
No one answered.
Then she remembered something.
Weeks earlier, we had watched a cartoon in which a boy called an ambulance.
I had explained that when someone was badly hurt, you had to ask the emergency services for help.
Ellie couldn’t read well.
But she remembered three numbers.
She took my phone out of my pocket.
The screen was locked.
She tried to open it with my finger.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
At last it lit up.
I watched her press the emergency button.
“Mommy, I’m going to find a doctor,” she whispered.
But before she could finish dialing, Grant appeared on the stairs.
“Why are you still up?”
Ellie held up the phone.
“Daddy! I’m calling a doctor!”
He snatched it from her.
“Who taught you to touch your mother’s phone?”
“Mommy isn’t breathing…”
“Enough!”
My husband canceled the call and put the phone on a shelf.
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Now go to sleep.”
Ellie began to cry.
“But Mommy won’t move!”
Grant looked at my body.
For the first time he came close enough to see my face.
I felt an absurd hope.
Please. Just touch my neck. Check for a pulse.
He crouched.
He reached out a hand.
But he never touched me.
“Claire, I know you can hear me,” he said coldly. “You’ve managed to scare our daughter. I hope you’re satisfied.”
He stood up.
“If you keep this nonsense up tomorrow, I’m taking Ellie to my brother’s house.”
Then he went back to the bedroom.
He didn’t even notice that my lips had turned blue.
Ellie stayed beside me, watching the stairs.
Once she was sure her father wouldn’t return, she went to the sofa and hid under the blanket.
“Mommy, Daddy’s mad,” she whispered. “Don’t make any noise.”
The little girl thought she was protecting me.
She didn’t know no one else could hurt me anymore.
Her, though, they could still destroy.
The Uncle Who Came Back Too Early
At seven in the morning, the doorbell rang.
Margaret answered it in a foul mood.
“Who comes at this hour?”
“It’s me, Mom.”
I recognized that voice instantly.
It was Owen, Grant’s younger brother.
He had gone out of town for a university conference and wasn’t supposed to be back until noon.
He had a backpack slung over one shoulder and a box of pastries.
“I managed to catch an earlier train,” he explained. “Happy belated birthday.”
Margaret’s smile returned.
“My boy! Come in, come in. I saved you some special pastries.”
Owen dropped his backpack by the door.
And then he saw my legs sticking out from under the blanket.
“Claire?”
No answer.
My mother-in-law huffed.
“Don’t even look at her. She’s been making a scene since yesterday.”
Owen stepped closer.
“Since yesterday?”
“Lacey played a little joke on her. She fell on the floor and decided to stay there to ruin the celebration.”
I watched Owen’s expression change.
He pulled back the blanket.
He saw my face.
Then the dark stain spreading across the floor beneath my head.
“What the hell…?”
He knelt.
He touched my neck.
He gently lifted my wrist.
And went still.
“Mom… when was the last time Claire spoke?”
Margaret seemed annoyed.
“You’re going to play along with her, too?”
“Answer me!”
It was the first time I had ever heard Owen shout at his mother.
She stepped back.
“Yesterday. At dinner.”
Owen pulled out his phone and called 911.
“I need an ambulance and the police. An adult woman is unconscious, not breathing, and has signs of a serious head injury.”
My mother-in-law turned pale.
“Police? What do you want the police for?”
Owen didn’t answer.
He was staring at the broken clip in my hair.
When he moved a few strands aside, his hand began to shake.
“My God, Claire…”
At that moment, Ellie came out from behind the sofa.
Her hair was tangled, her eyes swollen, her face streaked with dried tears.
Seeing Owen, she ran to him.
“Uncle Owen!”
He hugged her.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Uncle, Mommy won’t wake up!”
Her voice broke.
“I put a blanket on her. I wiped the blood. But Mommy’s still sleeping.”
Owen shut his eyes.
“Since when, honey?”
Ellie held up three little fingers, unable to explain the hours.
“Since Grandma’s party.”
Then she pointed at my head.
“Aunt Lacey pulled the chair. Mommy went boom! And then she didn’t talk anymore.”
Owen held the girl tighter.
He looked at Margaret.
“Did you know she’d hit her head?”
My mother-in-law opened her mouth.
But no words came out.
“And you left her here all night?”
“We thought…”
“You thought what?”
Margaret began to cry.
“We thought she was faking!”
Owen rose slowly, still holding Ellie.
“Then I hope you can explain that to the police.”
