Vanessa clutched my newborn grandson tighter and drew back as if I were contagious.
“Stay back, you filthy old woman! You’ll infect my son!”
Her hand struck my shoulder. I stumbled, fell onto the polished floor, and heard the silver rattle roll beneath the bed.
Daniel stood near the window in an expensive navy suit, his arms folded and his face emotionless. Then he slowly nodded at Vanessa in approval.
Something inside me shattered, but silently.
A nurse hurried toward me. “Ma’am, are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing myself upright.
Vanessa laughed. “She always makes scenes. Daniel, tell her she can’t keep showing up looking like this.”
Daniel finally responded. “Mom, Vanessa needs peace. You should go.”
