I never told my in-laws that I’m the daughter of the Chief Justice. When I was seven months pregnant, they made me cook the entire Christmas dinner by myself…-thaithao

“Something’s wrong. It hurts.”

“Let’s go!” Sylvia shouted, pointing a careful finger at the kitchen door.

I turned. I stumbled. The world tilted.

Chapter 2: The Fatal Push
I tried to walk. I really did. But the pain in my stomach was like a red-hot iron twisting inside me.

I stopped near the kitchen island, gripping the granite countertop to keep from falling.

“I said move!” Sylvia yelled from behind me.

She had followed me into the kitchen. Her face was contorted with pure, horrible fury. She couldn’t stand disobedience. She couldn’t stand that I had defied her authority by trying to sit down.

“I can’t,” I said with difficulty. “Sylvia, please… call a doctor.”

“You lazy, lying brat!” Sylvia screamed. “Always sick! Always tired! You’re pathetic!”

She lunged at me.

She placed both hands on my chest, right over my heart, and pushed.

It wasn’t a gentle push. It was a violent, forceful push, fueled by years of bitterness and cruelty.

I lost my balance. My swollen feet slipped on the tile floor.

I fell backward.

Time seemed to slow down. I saw the overhead lights spin. I saw Sylvia’s mocking face receding.

My lower back slammed against the edge. Sharp edge of the island’s granite countertop.

CRACK.