The Bread Under His Pillow
“Devin, there’s something else. The night before you came home, Stephanie made me trace my signature onto blank sheets. She said they were medical consent forms, in case I went into labor early.”
“Did they threaten you again?”
“Raymond kept Samuel in the dining room and said he’d call social services to report that I was hurting him. They’d even drawn fake bruises on his skin with makeup.”
From the bed, Samuel spoke softly. “Grandpa said I couldn’t take a warm bath, because it would wash the marks off.”
I knelt beside him. “Did anyone actually hurt you, buddy?”
“No. But they wanted me to lie so Mom would get in trouble.”