My mother set the casserole down slowly.
“She’s overwhelmed,” she said. “Two babies at once? That’s a lot. Maybe she panicked.”
“No,” I said firmly. “Emily wouldn’t run. She’s not like that.”
And then it hit me.
Three weeks ago, I had walked into the kitchen and stopped short when I saw them talking in low voices. They went silent the second I stepped in. Mom brushed it off. Said they were just discussing baby names.
But Emily’s eyes were red that day.
“Mom,” I said quietly, “what did you say to her?”
She crossed her arms. Defensive. “I told her the truth.”
My stomach dropped. “What truth?”
“That I had doubts,” she said. “Those babies came early. You travel a lot for work. I just asked her if she was sure about the timeline.”
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