A Deadly Spoonful

At my sons hundred-day celebration, I fed him a spoonful of peanut butter.

My entire family lunged at me as if Id lost my mind.

My mother-in-law knocked the bowl from my hands, snatched the baby, and shrieked, You vicious woman! Don't you know you can't feed a baby something like that? This is your own son!

My husband shoved me away, his eyes red-rimmed. "I give you my entire salary. I tell you where I am at all times. Isn't that enough? This is the son you almost died to save! How can you be so cruel as to use him to get at me?"

As the baby started to wail, I watched them with cold eyes. "What's the rush? Isn't he severely allergic to peanuts?"

My mother-in-law's fury instantly morphed into terror.

1.

It wasn't until the baby's cries turned his skin a blotchy red and a rash broke out across his tiny body that my mother-in-law finally seemed to relax. She then rushed him to the hospital.

The party was over.

Our son was immediately taken to the ICU. While we waited, my mother-in-law slapped me across the face.

"Willow Kail! You knew he was allergic to peanut butter, and you fed it to him anyway! Are you trying to poison him?" she spat, her teeth clenched. "What kind of mother are you? He's just a baby! Don't you know how many children die from anaphylactic shock? This is attempted murder!"

My husband, Hamilton, stepped between us, his fists clenched. "Mom, don't blame Willow," he said, his voice strained. "She just got out of her postpartum confinement. Postpartum depression is common. It's my fault. I didn't make her feel secure enough."

My own mother jabbed a finger at my forehead. "What's gotten into you since you had the baby? You're so paranoid. I know Hamilton hurt you in the past, but he's a changed man. He's trying to build a life with you. What more do you want? This is your child. How could you hurt him?"

My cheek stung, but I remained silent through their barrage of accusations.

When the doctor finally came out, I rushed to him. "Doctor, was it an allergic reaction?"

He nodded. "Yes, the child had a severe reaction. You parents need to be more careful. A few more minutes and he could have gone into shock."

Ignoring the last part of his sentence, I grabbed his arm. "Have you identified the specific allergen? Was it the peanut butter?"

The doctor gave me a strange look. "We won't know the specific trigger that quickly. Besides, it's normal for infants to have allergies. You just need to be vigilant."

My heart sank. My mother-in-law shoved me aside. "Are you still fixated on the damn peanut butter?" she screamed. "Willow, are you trying to tear our family apart?"

"I have a severe peanut allergy," I said, my face a cold mask. "It's genetic. I was just testing to see if he inherited it."

My casual tone sent my in-laws into a rage. They lunged at me, but Hamilton held them back.

He looked at me with pained eyes. "Willow, you're not well. Tomorrow, I'm taking you to see a doctor."

My mother, convinced I was possessed, nodded in agreement.

2.

When our son was released from the ICU, he was ravenous, his cries piercing the sterile hospital air. He was a picky baby. He refused all formula, accepting only breast milk.

I heard his cries but didn't move. I had no intention of feeding him.

My mother-in-law was frantic. She brought the baby to me, her earlier aggression replaced by a desperate plea. "Willow, I'm not angry with you anymore. Please, just feed him. Look at him, he can barely breathe from crying so hard."

The rash had faded slightly, but his skin was still flushed. My expression flickered. Just as my mother-in-law's face lit up with hope, a cruel smile touched my lips, and I shoved them both.

The baby nearly flew from her arms, but she held on tight, stumbling to the ground.

Even my own mother was horrified. "Willow! He's just a baby! What if he'd gotten hurt? Have you lost your mind? His crying is breaking my heart! Feed him!"

"No!" I said.

Hamilton's eyes were red with unshed tears. He dropped to his knees. "Willow, is this because I was looking at Amelia's photo yesterday? It's my fault. Blame me. But our son is innocent. He's so little, and he's starving. I'm begging you, please feed him. When we get home, I'll get rid of all of Amelia's things. I promise."

My mother started hitting my arm. "Amelia has been gone for so long! It's time to let it go! Why are you so hung up on a dead woman?"

Hamiltons sobs caught in his throat. He let out a bitter laugh. "Yes, Amelia is dead! Willow, you already drove her to her death. I'm begging you, please don't do the same to our son!"

I drove Amelia to her death?

A cold, mocking laugh escaped me. I thought back to a year ago.

I had just found out I was pregnant. Overjoyed, I cut my business trip short, eager to surprise Hamilton. I walked into our home to find him tangled up on the sofa with his adopted sister, Amelia.

My arrival interrupted them. Hamilton looked horrified, trying to stammer out an explanation. Amelia just held him tighter, her eyes full of defiance.

I fell apart. I ran home, sobbing.

The scandal was huge. The Kails weren't titans of industry, but they were well-known. The news that the heir was sleeping with his adopted sister would have ruined their reputation.

My father-in-law was furious. He sent Amelia abroad that same night. My mother-in-law and Hamilton came to my parents' house to apologize, transferring two properties into my name as a show of good faith. Hamilton gave me all his savings and swore that things with Amelia hadn't gone "all the way."

My parents, soft-hearted as ever, forgave him. For the sake of my unborn child, I decided to give him one last chance.

A few months later, we heard Amelia had died in a car accident overseas. Hamilton seemed unfazed, merely arranging for her funeral to be handled.

I thought it was all behind us. But now, he was blaming her death on me.

3.

The commotion had drawn a crowd. Onlookers whispered and pointed, judging the mother who could be so heartless. Someone filmed Hamilton on his knees, begging me, and the video went viral almost instantly.

I stood up, my voice firm. "Hamilton, save your performance for someone else. I'm not falling for it again. I told you then, that was your last chance. You blew it. I want a divorce. And I don't want the child."

Hamilton grabbed my arm, his face a mask of disbelief. "No, I won't agree to a divorce! What did I do wrong? Is it because I was upset that you fed him peanut butter? I just didn't want you to hurt him! If he had died, you would have been the one in pain!"

"Willow, you have postpartum depression. I'll help you through this. Please, don't talk about divorce. Our son needs you. Can't you hear him crying for his mommy?"

"Enough!" I cut him off. "I said, divorce. I'm giving up the child. Do whatever you want with him."

My mother-in-law's face was contorted with hatred. "Fine, Hamilton, give her the divorce! What kind of mother can listen to her child cry like that and do nothing? If you stay with her, I'm afraid she'll strangle him in his sleep! She acts like the baby is her mortal enemy!"

My mother, heartbroken over her grandson, looked at me with disappointment. "Willow, you need to look forward. Don't you remember when you were in that car accident right before you gave birth? Hamilton rushed you to the hospital. He never left your side. He took care of you with a devotion that put me to shame. He loves you so much. Don't do this."

But my mind was made up. I took one last look at the baby, my voice hoarse. "No. I am getting a divorce. Just... just pretend I never had a child."

I walked away, the sound of their curses following me down the hall.

I moved into one of the properties they'd given me. The empty living room seemed to echo with the baby's cries. I covered my ears and finally let myself sob.

When I had calmed down, I sent a text message.

"Did you find it?"

"Yes. It's almost certain. The results are... not what I expected."

4.

I had been gone for a few days, my phone constantly buzzing with missed calls and messages. Hamilton's friends and family were either cursing me out or trying to mediate, urging me to go back to him for the sake of the child.

Hamilton, in a grand romantic gesture, gathered a crowd and lit thousands of sparklers outside my apartment building, declaring his undying love. I didn't even go to the window.

Someone filmed it, of course. Hamilton's "devotion" went viral. The hospital video resurfaced, and public opinion turned viciously against me.

I was branded a heartless monster, an unfit mother who had nearly killed her own son. My personal information was leaked, and I was inundated with harassing calls.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, I finally answered a call from Hamilton.

He told me the baby was sick. He begged me to come see him.

I agreed.

When I arrived at the hospital, a mob was already waiting outside the room.

"That's her? The one who almost killed her own son? She looks normal, but she's pure evil."

"Why do good men always end up with horrible women?"

"That poor baby. His own mother is tormenting him."

I ignored their venomous whispers and walked into the room.

The entire Kail clan was there, along with my parents. Hamilton's secretary and his personal assistant were there, too.

The assistant, a man named Mr. Chen, glared at me. "Mrs. Kail, how can you be so cold? Mr. Kail has been running himself ragged between the office and the hospital, taking care of the baby. You're his mother! How can you be so cruel?"

Hamilton did look thinner, his face drawn and exhausted.

My mother-in-law sneered, "I thought you were really going to abandon your own son."

"I have," I said, my eyes downcast. "I just came to see if he was dead yet."

My words shocked everyone into silence. My own parents looked ready to strike me. The mousy secretary, a woman named Ms. Yao, clutched the baby tighter. "Mrs. Kail, you are so ungrateful," she said, her voice trembling with indignation. "You have a loving husband and a beautiful child. This is the life most women dream of. How can you be so heartless as to wish your own son dead?"

Her voice was loud, carrying out into the hallway. The mob surged into the room, pointing and shouting, a few trying to grab my hair. My parents, despite their anger, shielded me, lamenting their failure as parents and demanding I apologize.

My defiant silence only fueled their rage.

Hamilton gave a broken, weary smile. "Willow, your depression is getting worse. Why else would you say such a terrible thing about your own son?"

I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. "Hamilton, stop acting. Is he really the son I nearly died to give birth to?"

Hamilton froze. "Of course he is," he said, his voice strained. "He's been with me or my mother since the moment he was born. No one could have switched him. If you don't believe me, we can do a paternity test."

"No need." I threw a manila envelope onto the table, my gaze sweeping over the room. "I've already had one done. Everything in this file will explain why I had to leave my husband and my child."

Hamilton and his mother stared at the envelope, a flicker of panic in their eyes.