Once, as I reached for the contaminated bowl, Diane sighed. I hesitated, feeling uneasy, hoping for another argument in front of Noah.
Over time, I began to set aside portions for him before serving meals. Whenever I left food unattended, I would check it later.
Every time I thought about confronting Mark again, I reminded myself that Diane would soon be gone.
Then she caught a cold.
She had been coughing and blowing her nose repeatedly for two days, describing it as a “mild cold.”
I prepared chicken soup and showed her the ladle to serve it with.
“This is Noah’s dinner. If you want, pour it into a bowl.”
“I heard you.”
Ten minutes later, I discovered the ladle in Diane’s mouth. She put it back in the soup and stirred it.
„Diane!”
“For God’s sake, stop screaming.”
“You’re sick! It’s Noah’s dinner!”
“Children need germs. That’s how they build immunity.”
