I was preparing dinner when my little daughter tugging on my robe. “Mom, can I stop taking the pills Aunt gave me?” My bl00d ran cold. Trying not to frighten her, I calmly told her to bring me the bottle. When I took it for analysis, the doctor turned pale: “Do you know what this is? Where did you get it?”
I was chopping vegetables for dinner when I felt a gentle tug on my robe. My seven-year-old daughter, Hazel, stood behind me, twisting her fingers—her tell whenever something scared her. “Mom,” she wh…