Seeing this, Jackson's face darkened as well.

"Don't push too far. Elaine means well. She even brought flowers and toys."

I snatched the bag from Elaine's hands and tossed it aside.

"Mona is allergic to pollen! And she hasn't played with toys for a long time—she only wanted to hear you tell her stories!"

At the mention of Mona, tears streamed uncontrollably down my face, falling heavily to the ground.

"Jackson, while you were playing with her son, your own daughter was fighting for her life. While you were telling her son stories, your own daughter died because of her. How can I not hate you both? I am Mona's...