At 2 A.M., a Hidden

nursing Noah under a blanket.

“Cover yourself properly,” Mom snapped. “No wonder Ethan avoids this room.”

Another.

Ava trying to leave the nursery. My mother blocking the door.

“You don’t take him downstairs looking like that,” she said. “People will think my son married trash.”

Another.

My mother holding Noah while Ava reached for him, panic in her eyes.continue reading …