"Mrs. Campbell, Mason is lactose intolerant. Why do you keep forgetting about this?" The nanny, Polly Jackson, grabbed the milk bottle I had been holding while chewing me out. Ever since I started caring for Mason Campbell, whom she treated like her own grandson, she did nothing but criticize me at every turn. She was more concerned than I was when it came to Mason. Whenever he caught a fever, it was as though the sky had fallen through. Polly would stay awake through the night taking care of him. Armed with the excuse that she had experience raising children, she interfered with how I raised Mason. Polly took over the dressing, feeding, and taking care of Mason all around, simpering about how this would relieve the burden on my shoulders.Polly was a single mom. After claiming that her daughter, Danielle Jackson, had lived a troubled life and experienced nothing but unkindness, Danielle followed in Polly's footsteps and moved into my house. They called my daughter Griselda Ja
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