My husband, Isaac, welcomed her politely but kept his distance. He didn’t like her staying so long, but I brushed it off. “She needs me right now,” I told him. How could I have known that pitying her would cost me everything?
Naomi was sweet to my face, always offering to help with the baby, always smiling at Isaac, and always calling my brother, Julian,the only man who ever truly cared about her. But behind that kindness was a shadow I refused to see.
Before I knew it, Isaac and Julian had changed. Naomi had them wrapped around her little finger. She stopped being grateful and helpful, and started acting like the owner of the house. And even worse, my husband and brother always took her side.
I felt lonely, and my daughter, Solana, was my only friend, and Isaac never helped me take care of her. He was always busy doing something irrelevant with Naomi. I was so alone that I developed depression, but still, I was a good mother.
The day that I went to prison, Solana and I had come back from early Christmas shopping, she had gone up to her room and I was putting the decorations away when Naomi walked in.
“You look tired, I made you some tea.”