Chapter 8 - The Voice on the Machine
The next morning,
our landline phone rang.
We rarely used it,
so the sound was jarring.
It rang four times before the answering machine picked up.
Then,
her voice filled the room.
"Jake,"
Linda said,
her tone unnervingly calm.
"I know you're there."
"You're making a big mistake."
"I've already spoken to a family counselor."
"They agree that Megan's behavior is concerning."
"If you don't let me help,
I will have to take official steps."
"For the safety of my grandchild."
The machine clicked,
ending the recording.
Megan covered her ears,
rocking back and forth on the couch.
"She's going to take him,"
she sobbed.
"She's going to take our boy."
"She can't,"
I said,
kneeling beside her,
pulling her hands away from her ears.
"Listen to me,
Megan."
"She has no legal right."
"We have the medical records."
"We have the proof of what she did."
But logic doesn't work against terror.
Megan was convinced that my mother was unstoppable.
And looking back at my childhood,
May you like
at how she controlled everyone in our family,
I couldn't blame her for being afraid.
