Before My Tears Could Even Fall
Language: en
Since last week, my five-year-old has set an extra dinner plate every night. When I ask who it is for, she does not look up. My big brother needs to eat. We have no son. I thought it was an imaginary friend, something common for children in single-parent homes. Until late last night. Walking past her bedroom, I heard her talking to someone. A boy’s voice, seven or eight years old, spoke clearly from the head of her bed. Did you memorize it. First, swap Mom’s pills with the white ones. After she falls asleep, press the pillow down hard. My daughter answered in a sweet, obedient tone.…