The Perfect Husband's Lie

it long to play

y business, a desperate attempt to pretend everything was normal. Mo

ot soup on the tray

of Andrew's questions, M

my g

baby's tiny arm, plunging it

d, a high, pierc

k, her face a mask of horror. She turn

she screamed. "Look

ng skin on his son's arm. He saw Molly's tears. He looked at m

is your fault! You can't

hand. My right hand. He shoved it, h

ed out, pulling my hand back. The skin

d, his face inches from mine. "You don'

pped an arm around a sobbing Molly

" he yelled over his shoulder

ging silence. I looked down at my burned hand. Molly's smi

n doing so, she ha