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.
It wasn’t the sound of a bone cracking. It was the sound of an impact, deep and dull.
I fell hard to the floor. My head bounced off the tile.
For a second, there was only shock. Then, the pain came. It wasn’t in my back. It was in my womb.
