I searched everywhere for her, but she was already gone. Thankfully, I had given my son an EpiPen, and after a few terrifying hours, he finally began to recover.
I told my husband that I never wanted to see his daughter again. He insisted that she was just a teenager who hadn’t understood how serious her actions could be. He claimed he had spoken to her and wanted me to forgive her, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it. How could I forgive someone who had put my child’s life at risk?
At 2 a.m., I suddenly woke up and realized my husband wasn’t in bed beside me. Before I could get up to look for him, I heard a scream that sent a chill down my spine. It was coming from our 7-year-old son’s bedroom, and it was my husband screaming.
I rushed down the hallway and froze in the doorway when I saw my little boy lying on the floor, covered in chocolate. His face was frighteningly pale, and he looked terribly ill. Beside him sat a large chocolate cake filled with peanuts.
