After an earthquake, I asked to stay at my parents’ with my 5-year-old daughter; they said, “Only without the child. No space for her.” My sister’s kids each had a room plus a game room; I didn’t cry; I just said, “Noted.” Three days later, they were regretting everything…There was an earthquake.
Not the movie kind with skyscrapers falling, just a violent jolt that made the walls shudder and my cupboards scream, the sound of plates dying.When it stopped, my daughter Ruby, 5 years old and small for her age, stood in the doorway, clutching her stuffed fox like it might bite the shaking away.
“Mommy,” she whispered.
“It’s okay,” I lied.
