Sometimes it was a passive-aggressive remark like, “Emily, don’t you think that dress is a bit too mature for a little girl?” Other times, it was more hurtful—forgetting Emily’s birthday entirely while showering Zoe with toys and attention.
Then, everything changed when my mother died.
The grief hit me like a freight train. It was sudden—no warning, no goodbye. I could barely function. We had to fly out of state for the funeral, and my heart was too broken to think straight. I was drowning in loss, and all our friends were busy or out of town.
That’s when Sharon offered to watch the girls for three days.
Every instinct I had screamed “no,” but I was too emotionally wrecked to come up with another plan. Against my better judgment, I agreed.
