![]() ![]() There I was, asleep on the floor beside the bone pile, tears still drying on my cheeks and blood wet around my mouth. If it had been, they would have snatched me away and done unspeakable things to me. She’d stumbled upon stranger things in suburbia. When I was older she told me she thought my babysitter had been the victim of a satanic cult. I know Mama screamed, because anyone would have. The last time my mother had looked at Penny Wilson she’d still had a face. I had my teeth but I was too small to swallow the bones, so when my mother came home she found them in a pile on the living room carpet. She must have hummed a lullaby, fondled each tiny finger and toe, kissed my cheeks and stroked the down on my head, blowing on my hair like she was making a wish on a dandelion gone to seed. That’s what I figure, because she was only supposed to watch me for an hour and a half, and obviously she loved me a little too much. ![]() ![]() Penny Wilson wanted a baby of her own in the worst way. ![]()
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