called her name twice before she responded.
Each incident had seemed explainable by itself.
Preschool could wear her out.
Children went through growth spurts.
Children slept badly.
Parents misread things.
I had supplied an innocent explanation every time because I had no reason to imagine an adult in my home might secretly be giving my child prescription medication.
Now those small moments no longer felt separate.
I wanted to run down the hallway and confront Diane immediately.
The urge was physical.
But Emma was watching me.
She was studying my
