Chapter 9 - The Visitor at My Front Door
Two days before New Year's, someone knocked on my door.
I was feeding Emma in the living room.
James had gone to the grocery store.
I checked the camera beside the front door.
Lauren stood on the porch.
She wore a white winter coat and carried a large wrapped gift.
My heart started racing.
She knocked again.
"Sarah? I know you're home."
I didn't move.
Emma pulled away from her bottle and looked at me.
I forced myself to breathe.
Another knock.
"Come on. We need to talk."
I placed Emma safely in her playpen.
Then I spoke through the door.
"Leave, Lauren."
"Seriously?"
"You're not welcome here."
She gave an irritated laugh.
"I brought Emma a present."
"Take it with you."
"It's a Christmas gift."
"She doesn't need anything from you."
The wrapping paper crinkled.
"You're being ridiculous."
I looked through the camera.
Lauren was rolling her eyes.
Even now, she seemed convinced I was performing some elaborate act of cruelty against her.
"Please leave my property," I said.
"Your husband put you up to this."
"No."
"He's controlling you."
"James isn't here."
That silenced her.
I continued.
"I'm telling you to leave because you hurt my daughter, refused to apologize, and lied about what happened."
Her expression changed.
For a moment, I saw real anger beneath the smugness.
"You always act like you're better than me."
"This isn't about being better."
"Oh, please. You've got the perfect husband, the perfect baby, the perfect little life."
I stared at her through the screen.
"Do you think that makes it okay to hurt Emma?"
She looked away.
"That's not what I said."
"Then stop talking about my life and take responsibility for what you did."
Lauren stepped closer to the door.
"I am your sister."
"That doesn't give you permission to hurt my child."
A neighbor walking his dog slowed near the sidewalk.
Lauren noticed him.
Her voice softened immediately.
"Sarah, honey, I'm just trying to make peace."
I felt sick.
She'd changed her entire tone because someone might hear.
"Then leave."
She stared at the camera.
"You've become a cold person."
I didn't respond.
She set the gift on the porch and walked away.
I waited until her car disappeared before opening the door.
Inside the wrapping paper was an expensive rocking horse.
A card hung from its neck.
To Emma, from the aunt who will always love you, even if your mommy doesn't understand.
I read it once.
Then I placed the gift in the garage.
I took a photograph of the card and the package, sent Lauren a message instructing her not to return without permission, and saved our door-camera recording.
I was finished pretending that unwanted visits were acts of love.
When James got home, I told him everything.
He listened.
Then he asked, "How are you feeling?"
I thought about it.
"Shaky."
He nodded.
"Anything else?"
"Proud of myself."
He smiled.
"Good."
I touched his face.
"Would you have opened the door?"
"No."
"Would you have yelled?"
"Probably not."
"What would you have done?"
He shrugged.
"Pretty much what you did."
I laughed for the first time in days.
Then my phone rang.
Dad.
His voice was tense.
"Sarah, your mother and I had a serious argument."
"What happened?"
"She wants Lauren to move back into our house for a while."
My stomach tightened.
"Okay?"
He took a breath.
"I told her Lauren isn't coming back until she can admit what she did and stop threatening your family."
I sat down.
Dad continued.
"Your mother says I'm forcing her to choose between her daughters."
May you like
For a moment, I almost felt sorry for Mom.
Then Dad said, "I told her the choice isn't between her daughters. It's between telling the truth and continuing to protect a lie."
