“And they lived happily ever after.” She closes the book. They’re asleep now, sweet and innocent again. Safe from their father’s wrath, looking like the angels she knows they are. Yesterday, the youngest asked if happily ever after ever really happened. “Of course,” was her unbelieving reply. Now she knows it does. She goes to the den, where he’s sprawled, drunk. She eyes his gun. Considers. Reconsiders. Instead, she grabs the bottle from her pocket, fingering the poison warning lovingly. Quickly, she opens it and swallows hard. The vial brought her angels their happy ending. She prays it will work again.