“Rachel,” he said softly, turning back toward her. “Tell me.”
She shook her head.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Her fingers tightened around the blue quilt.
“Because she told me you would hate me.”
Daniel froze.
“Who?”
Rachel looked toward Margaret.
“Your mother.”
The room became completely silent.
Margaret stepped forward.
“That is ridiculous.”
Rachel flinched.
Daniel noticed.
And that was when the last piece of doubt inside him disappeared.
Because Rachel was not reacting like someone caught in a lie.
She was reacting like someone trapped.
“Mom,” Daniel said, his voice lower now. “What did you tell her?”
Margaret crossed her arms.
“I told her the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That pregnancy does not make someone helpless.”
Daniel stared at her.
“That is not an answer.”
Margaret sighed dramatically.
“She was always too sensitive. You know that.”
“No.”
Daniel’s voice sharpened.
“Tell me what happened.”
Margaret looked away.
And Rachel finally spoke.
Quietly.
“I fell.”
Daniel turned back to her.
“What?”
“I fell in the kitchen.”
“When?”
Rachel swallowed.
“Almost three weeks ago.”
His face changed.
“Three weeks?”
She nodded.
“I slipped near the sink. I landed badly.”
