“Taylor.”
She looked at me.
“What did you know?”
“Nothing.”
Too fast.
“What did you know?”
Her eyes filled.
“My mom uses time-outs.”
“In a freezer?”
“No.”
“Lily says this has happened before.”
Taylor covered her mouth.
The movement answered before her words did.
“I knew Mom had put her in the garage,” she whispered. “I thought she made her sit on a stool near the freezer.”
“You thought?”
“She said Lily was becoming disrespectful. She said she needed stricter consequences.”
I could barely hear over the pounding in my head.
“Did Lily ever tell you she was put inside?”
Taylor began crying.
Once.
That was the answer.
Once, two months earlier, Lily had said Grandma put her “in the cold box.” Taylor assumed she meant the garage storage area. Evelyn told her Lily was exaggerating because she did not like discipline.
Taylor believed her mother.
Or wanted to.
“Why didn’t you ask Lily what she meant?”
“I did. She shut down.”
“So you let it go?”
“I didn’t know.”
I looked at our daughter sleeping beneath warmed blankets.
“You knew enough to ask again.”
