— Natalie, I’m going to speak to you not as if you’re an upset child, but as an intelligent adult woman. Yes, my son and I made the decision to place the baby in a specialized residential facility. To spare you unnecessary anguish, we told you the baby had died. You need to understand and accept that this was the only sensible choice. Children like that don’t just have developmental delays. They often come with a whole list of medical complications that only get worse over time. If we had brought the baby home, you would have become an exhausted, bitter caretaker, and my son — my only son — would have carried guilt for the rest of his life. Men don’t handle situations like that well. He probably would have started drinking to cope and ruined himself.
Eleanor stopped, waiting for Natalie to react. But Natalie said nothing. That unsettled her, and she continued in a different tone.
— Natalie, do you really want to trade the life you and Eddie have now for the suffering I just described?
Natalie looked at her carefully.
— Eleanor, I almost feel sorry for you. You’re not a person anymore. You’re a machine with a polished exterior and no heart. Don’t worry — I will never ask you for help. You and your son can keep your version of a comfortable life. I’m not even going to the police. On one condition. Tomorrow — do you hear me? Tomorrow — we are going to wherever you sent my daughter. And you will do everything in your power to make sure I come home with my child by evening. And you, — she said, turning to Edward, — will put everything back in the nursery. I don’t believe for a second you threw it away. It’s probably all sitting at the lake house.
Natalie stood and went into the bedroom, leaving her husband and mother-in-law to deal with the disaster they had created. She lay down on the bed and imagined seeing her daughter the next day, finally holding her, bringing her home, making up for lost time. She didn’t fall asleep until just before dawn.
When Natalie came out the next morning, Edward and Eleanor were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee. One glance told her neither of them had slept.
— Natalie, — Edward jumped up, — want some coffee?
— No, thank you. I don’t have the time or the patience for small talk. Let’s get moving. We’re going to get my daughter, — she said.
— Natalie, we haven’t really discussed this. Let’s talk first. You can’t make a decision like this overnight, — Eleanor tried.
— It seems to me you had plenty of time to discuss my daughter’s fate behind my back. That’s over. I’m making the decisions now. We leave now. Whether we’re driving to the police or to the facility where my daughter is depends on what you do next.
Realizing she had no room left to maneuver, Eleanor picked up her phone and dialed.
— Good morning, Martha. I’m coming over. My son and daughter-in-law will be with me, — she said.
Natalie was ready in ten minutes. They went outside, and Eleanor said:
— Eddie, we’re taking your car. They know mine there, and we’d prefer not to draw attention. Though I suppose that hardly matters now. Things like this don’t stay buried forever.
Edward nodded silently and headed for his SUV. The whole drive passed in silence. Only when the fence of the facility came into view through the trees did Eleanor speak.
— Natalie, tell me something. Why are you willing to blow up all our lives for a child who will never understand your sacrifices? Why insist on playing the martyr? We can still turn around, go home, and put this behind us.
At first Natalie didn’t want to answer. Then she said:
— Eleanor, if Eddie had been born with a disability, would you have written him off this easily too? Would you have erased him from your life and never looked back?
Eleanor jerked as if struck. She had never once looked at the situation from that angle. The certainty drained from her face. For the first time, she truly began to grasp what she had done…
