Chapter 15 - NOAHOur seven-year-old son had watched adults collapse around his sister.
He became quiet.
Then angry.
He asked:
“Did Dad poison Emma?”
I almost dropped a plate.
“Who said that?”
“Kids.”
The neighborhood post.
My mistake had traveled to school.
I sat beside him.
“We don’t know everything yet.”
“Did Grandma?”
“Adults are investigating.”
“Why can’t you tell me?”
Because seven-year-olds want moral clarity more than evidentiary nuance.
I said:
“Emma drank something she should not have had. We know that. We are learning who knew what and why.”
“Is Dad bad?”
“No person becomes one word.”
He frowned.
“Did he do bad?”
“Yes.”
That answer I could give.
“He knew there had been a problem before and didn’t tell me or Emma’s doctor.”
Noah cried.
“Is Emma dying?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
“She is recovering.”
“Promise.”
I looked at him.
“I promise I will tell you if doctors are worried. I won’t lie.”
May you like
Different promise.
One I could keep.
Related Stories
