My daughter Emma’s 18th birthday was supposed to be one of the happiest evenings our family had ever had.
We had reserved a large table at a restaurant. There was me, my husband David, Emma, our younger son, a few relatives, and
David’s older brother, Robert.
Ever since Emma was little, she had simply called Robert “Uncle.”
Robert was 53 years old. He had never married and had no children of his own. But he had always had a special bond with Emma. He never forgot her birthdays, he showed up at school events, and in recent years he often told her:
“Just wait until you turn eighteen. I have something for you.”
We always assumed he was joking.
But that evening, Robert was acting strangely.
Continue on the next page:
