“Annabelle, you had better be in your bedroom,” she called out aimlessly.
I stepped back from the corner and stood at the back of the living room. It would have been easier to hold the shotgun if I was seated, but I couldn’t do that comfortably in a messy diaper.
Mother flinched at the sight of the gun, when she caught sight of me, but otherwise didn’t react as we remained in a silent standoff. Her crowbar held loosely in her right hand. My shotgun held upright and aimed at her chest.
“You put that down right now before you get into any more trouble than you already are.”