I found him in the parlor, calmly pouring himself a drink.

“Did you send a man to take my child off a playground?” He didn’t flinch.

He sipped his bourbon.

“I love that boy like my own, Jen.

You’re not well.

Grief does things.

The family will make sure Cody’s cared for when you get the help you need.” The ease of the threat left me cold.

I was living in a house of snakes, and I stopped pretending otherwise.