
The Grandmother Who Stole My Baby's Life Summary
Chapter 1 of The Grandmother Who Stole My Baby's Life
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Before bed I went to take a shower, and my mother-in-law and her mother stayed to play with my daughter.
While I was drying my hair, I saw my mother-in-law's mother playing a clapping game with her.
She'd set my daughter's little hand in her palm and clap three times each round, nine claps in all.
My daughter giggled and giggled, and the old woman's face was all smiles.
It rubbed off on me, and before I knew it I was smiling too.
Then, out of nowhere, a sharp voice cut into my head.
【Still smiling? Your daughter's fortune is being stolen.】
【The red garment borrows lifespan. She came prepared.】
【Poor little thing. She's about to end up just like the one in her aunt's family.】
I thought of Rebecca's daughter, always sick with one thing after another.
I snatched my daughter up.
1.
"Vivienne Abbott, what's wrong?"
My mother-in-law's mother, the one I was supposed to call Great-Grandma Agnes Whitmore.
She looked at me kindly.
My daughter pressed tight against my chest.
I checked her over carefully.
It wasn't her bedtime yet, and she was wide awake and cheerful.
Still riding the high of the game they'd just played.
Still giggling away.
Nothing seemed wrong with her.
I wondered if the heat had gotten to me, if I was hearing things from heatstroke.
【The wretched old crone plays it so well. She's succeeded. She'll be too giddy to sit still tonight.】
【You'll see. Starting tonight, this little girl starts getting sick.】
The strange voice was back.
I watched Agnes warily. She smiled, kind as ever.
"You just got out of the shower and you're not even dry. Don't catch a cold. Let me keep Mia Aguilar company for now."
After what I'd just heard, there was no way I'd let my daughter near her again.
【Good, you're on guard now. This wretched old crone has been at it for a while.】
【The red garment on her and the square-signet gold ring on her hand are both for borrowing lifespan.】
【She claps so smoothly, and exactly nine times. Nine is the highest number, so the lifespan-borrowing works best.】
Listening to the strange voice, I cast my mind back.
These past two weeks, Agnes had liked to come into my room at night in bright red clothes.
She liked to lie down in Mia's sleeping spot, snug against her while they played.
I'd thought it meant she loved children and wanted to be closer to Mia.
And two weeks ago, that golden ring hadn't been on her hand.
If all of this was coincidence, then how could every single thing about her line up with what that strange voice said?
Just then my mother-in-law came in.
"Vivienne, you're done showering already?"
"Why are you holding Mia?"
She reached for my daughter as she spoke. "Be good, Mia. You like playing with Great-Grandma, don't you?"
"Keep playing with Great-Grandma, Mia, and let your mommy get to bed early, all right?"
My daughter stretched out her little arms to lunge toward her.
I held her back and looked at Sharon Hale, wary all over.
These past two weeks, she'd always sent Agnes in to help me watch the baby.
I couldn't be sure she wasn't in on all of it.
"Oh, it's probably getting late and Vivienne's a little tired. Let them rest, then."
Agnes climbed down off the bed.
Before she left, she reached out to take my daughter's little hand.
"Be a good girl and listen to your mommy, Mia. Tomorrow we'll play the clapping game with Great-Grandma again."
【Whatever you do, don't let the wretched old crone touch the child again. Once she completes ten cycles, the little girl is finished.】
I caught my daughter's outstretched hand.
"Mom, I'm tired. I'm going to put Mia to sleep."
A flicker of displeasure crossed Agnes's face.
Sharon said quickly, "That's fine, get to bed early. I'll take Mia tomorrow."
The moment the door closed, Agnes turned her head and looked back at my daughter.
Her face full of resentment.
I held my daughter tight, my head crowded with that strange voice.
Rebecca's daughter had been born earlier.
She was five this year, and she'd been sick nonstop since she turned one.
A five-year-old like a porcelain doll.
Not just that, without a trace of a child's life or energy.
Like an old person at the end of her days.
Agnes, meanwhile, at eighty, looked far younger than others her age.
I'd always thought it was because that older generation could endure hardship.
Did plenty of physical work, kept good habits.
But now it was clear there was something rotten under it all.
No. For my daughter's sake, I had to get to the bottom of this.
No sooner said than done. Once I'd coaxed Mia to sleep, I opened my chat with Rebecca.

















