My Daughter Crocheted 80 Hats for Sick Children – Then My MIL Threw Them Away and Said, 'She's Not My Blood'

I heard a sound behind me.

Carol was standing there, drinking tea from one of my best cups like she was auditioning to be a Victorian villain in a BBC drama.

"If you're looking for the hats, I threw them away," she announced. "They were a waste of time. Why should she spend money on strangers?"

"You threw away 80 hats meant for sick children?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and it only got worse.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Carol rolled her eyes. "They were ugly. Mismatched colors and poor stitching… She's not my blood, and doesn't represent my family, but that doesn't mean you should encourage her to be bad at useless hobbies."

"They weren't useless…" Emma whimpered, fresh tears spilling onto my shirt.

Carol let out a long-suffering sigh and left. Emma dissolved into hysterical sobbing, her heart shattered by Carol's casual cruelty.

Emma dissolved into hysterical sobbing, her heart shattered by Carol's casual cruelty.

I wanted to run after Carol and confront her, but Emma needed me. I pulled her onto my lap and wrapped her up in the biggest hug I could manage.

When she was finally calm enough to let me go, I went outside, determined to salvage what I could.

I tore through our trash bins and the neighbor's, but Emma's hats weren't there.