“Her silence drove me to the brink. I went after her in the hall and demanded she tell me why she had done it. Still, she said nothing, just kept rocking Scott and staring at me. I didn’t know what to say. The strength went out of me. My voice fell to a whisper. I asked what she planned to do. I asked if she was going to take my children and leave. Finally she said something. A simple sentence, really—who would have guessed it had the strength to change so much? She said, “‘This one isn’t yours.’”

“Jesus,” Kelly whispered. “What did you do?”

“I pushed her.”

“Down the stairs?”

“Not intentionally. I pushed her away from me. I barely shoved her. But it was enough, she fell down the stairs. All the way to the bottom. All the time holding Scott, protecting his little head from damage. Leaving her own body open to the worst the fall could do. When they came to rest, they were on the floor of the living room. Maggie lay unconscious on her back, her eyes wide open. Scott was on her chest. He had stopped crying but he appeared unhurt. Gene stood by their side, and he stared up the stairs at me. His little face looked so sad right then. I’ll always remember what he said.”

“What?”

“‘May I have a glass of milk?’”

Kelly almost choked. “Why did he say that?”

“I don’t know why.”

“Was Maggie dead?”

“No. She was seriously injured but she was still alive. I called for an ambulance. She was taken to a hospital in Grant, twenty miles from here. She had suffered trauma to the brain. She was in a coma. Neurology was a primitive field fifty years ago. I brought in the best specialist but there was nothing they could do for her. After a month I checked her out of the hospital and took her home to care for her.”

“The police talked to you about the accident?”

“Yes. Like I told you, I lied. I said she slipped and fell. With all the shouting and carrying on, the neighbors knew different. But people minded their own business in those days. They realized whatever I had done to Maggie, I had not meant to do it. They knew me, I was the one they always called when they were sick. Also, they could see that I was already paying for what had happened. Maggie was a complete vegetable. She needed around-the-clock attention. She could do nothing for herself. I fed her through a gastric tube, but it was not long before she turned to skin and bones. I could never get her eyes to stay shut. I taped them closed but they’d pop back open. Talk about having a ghost in the house.”

“Scott was all right?”

“He was fine.”

“Gene?”