For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then my father-in-law looked at me.
“Go pack your things,” he said quietly.
I froze.
“You and the baby are coming with us.”
I looked toward my husband.
Part of me still hoped he would stop me.
Apologize.
Say something.
Anything.
But he stood there in silence.
No apology.
No concern.
No effort to fix what had just happened.
And in that moment, I understood exactly where I stood.
So I packed.
That night, I left with my son.
