I carried the child to the bathroom. “Time for a little tubby, yes, little one?” I said, smiling down at the baby, giving a little laugh. As soon as she saw the water, she began to giggle and clap her hands. I set her down in the bath, letting her splash for a bit. She cooed and splashed, and her eyes widened in delight when I brought out a rubber duck.

Now’s the time, I told myself. Do it now. Come on, it’s just a baby. No harm done, really.

I rolled up the sleeves of my terrycloth robe. “Hey, babes,” I said, and scooped up the toddler. Then, in one deft motion, I plunged her under the water, face and all.

The instant her nose and mouth went under, she began to struggle in earnest, but I held fast. She persisted in her flailing, until the water filled up her lungs. Then she went limp, laying dead in the water.

She’s just a baby. No harm done, right? So…what’s the deal with these handcuffs?