I spent ten years treating my mother-in-law like my own mother until my eight-year-old daughter grabbed my hand and whispered, “Mommy… Grandma puts something white in your tea.”

Just as I lifted it, Chloe rushed into the kitchen.

“Mom, I’m thirsty. Can I have some?”

Eleanor instantly went pale.

“Don’t drink from that cup!”

Julian slowly looked up from breakfast.

“Mom… why can’t Chloe drink Nora’s tea?”

Eleanor stared at the mug.