For a moment, I thought he was finally going to talk.
But instead she hugged me tightly.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry!
Then he cried.
I held her in my arms until she fell asleep.
And inside, I was falling apart.
Three days later, my husband returned to our house in Plovdiv with a black leather bag.
He looked exhausted.
“Where’s Emma?” he asked.
“Up.
“Okay. We need to talk.
He took me to the living room and closed the door.
Then open the bag.
Inside were thick bundles of banknotes at a hundred euros.
Take them out and put them on the table.
There are fifty thousand euros here.
I stared at the money.
“What is that?”
He took a deep breath.
Take this money and never tell anyone what I did to our daughter.
For a few seconds I couldn’t catch my breath.
“What… What did you do?”
