The key worked.
I released Chloe and lifted her against my chest. She wrapped her arms weakly around my neck while every excuse Julian and Victoria had given me during the previous months came rushing back.
“Chloe is sleeping.”
“The doctor says she needs privacy.”
“She becomes anxious around visitors.”
“You need to respect our parenting choices.”
I had believed Victoria was controlling and Julian hated confrontation. I had told myself I was being the difficult mother-in-law, the worried grandmother who needed to back off.
Now my granddaughter was trembling against me inside the room where everyone expected to mourn her the next morning.
I wrapped Chloe in my black wool shawl and started toward the back hallway. My handbag and phone were still near the living room, but the old telephone in the laundry room was closer. I could feel Chloe’s breathing against my shoulder as I hurried away from the casket.
