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I rush out of the living room and find them outside in the hallway. Maria’s collapsed against the wall, brown eyes wide as she clutches her throat. Matthew’s crying in front of her, trying to coax his sister back.
“Oh god!” I gasp, rushing over and crouching in front of her. “Maria! What happened, baby? Talk to me.”
She continues taking short, gasping breaths. Her throat starts to swell and her face starts to redden. Something clicks in my head.
“Allergy,” I breathe. She has a peanut allergy. I search her pockets. “Matthew, did you eat anything at church?”
He nods just as my hand closes around a wrapper in her pockets.
“We just ate the candy Daniel gave us. Maria told me not to tell you. She only had one bite. Daniel said his mom got it for him. I-I didn’t know.” He starts crying again.
“Isa!” I scream.
She comes running a few seconds later, eyes wide.
“Her EpiPen,” I say, my heart thudding in my chest.
Isabella doesn’t waste a second before stumbling into the twins’ bedroom. She reappears quickly holding a small metal box. I lean away as she brings it out. Her steps are practiced, precise. She’s done this before.
Isabella kneels carefully in front of the little girl. She lifts the pen in the air and quickly injects it into Maria’s thigh.
We wait for a minute or two until Maria manages to take a full breath. When she does, I fall back on my ass and take a rough, shaky breath.
“Oh god. Thank you, thank you,” I cry.
“We need to call 911,” Isa murmurs.
I cradle Maria in my arms while Isa gets up to grab her phone. “You’re okay, darling. It’s okay,” I say softly, kissing her forehead.
The whole thing probably happened in less than five minutes, but it feels like an eternity has passed. I’m still running my hand through her dark hair when I hear the sound of a gun being loaded. I turn around and my eyes widen when I see Denise standing there.
Dark brown eyes are fixed on me, full of fear and hate.
“Step away from my daughter,” she orders, pointing her gun at me.
Panic lodges in my throat. “No, Denise. She’s fine. She ate some peanuts and had an allergic reaction. But Isa already used the EpiPen. She’s going to be okay,” I assure the woman quickly.
The look in her eyes doesn’t let up. It’s almost unhinged. “I said get up!” she shouts.
“Mama,” Matthew cries, walking toward her. But I don’t trust the look in Denise’s eyes right now.
Very carefully, I get to my feet. “Stay behind me, Matt. Stay with your sister.”
I hear Isabella’s footsteps as she reappears. She takes in the scene silently before speaking up.
“Denise,” she drawls. “You’re back.” Her voice is measured, controlled.
“She was trying to harm Marie,” Denise accuses.
“Maria had an accident, Denise. Put the gun away. You’re scaring the children,” Isabella states.
Instead of letting go, Denise’s hands tighten around the grip of the firearm.
“I told you, Isa. I told you he would ruin us. He brought this bitch into our family and now she’s trying to kill my daughter.”
I make sure not to make any sudden moves. “I would never hurt Maria, Denise. I swear.”
“Mama,” Matthew tries again, voice low and full of fear. “Aunt Rosa didn’t do anything.”
