The faded blue blanket my mother had knitted when our son was born had followed us through three different houses and more than three decades of marriage. Greg had always treated it like a family treasure.
So when he casually told me he’d accidentally donated it, I knew something didn’t add up.
We hadn’t taken a single box to charity in months.
Three nights later, I woke to the sound of my husband whispering downstairs.
“Daddy loves you too.”
Seconds later, I heard the back door unlock.
That was the
