“Drink it,” my mother-in-law said, shoving the bowl into my hands, her voice colder than death itself. “We were told it was a boy. Six months, and now it’s a girl? Our family needs an heir.” When I refused, she gathered the entire clan to beat me until I lost my child. But as their hands tore at me, I made a decision, one they never saw coming. And that was the beginning of their downfall.
I refused every time.
That afternoon, Daniel stood silently by the kitchen door, while Eleanor pushed the bowl back towards me.
“It’s a mixture of herbs,” she said. “Women have worked these things out in silence for generations.”
I left the bowl on the table.
—I’m not going to drink anything.
His expression hardened.
—You’re not going to bring shame to this family because of a useless girl.
I grabbed my phone from the counter, but Daniel was faster and snatched it out of my hand.
Before I could scream, Eleanor opened the dining room doors.
His brothers, Daniel’s cousins, and Aunt Linda were already there, sitting as if they had been waiting for a show.
“This creature is destroying the Whitmore bloodline,” Eleanor announced. “If Rebecca isn’t going to do the right thing, then we’ll settle this as a family.”
Then Daniel locked the front door, turned to me, and Eleanor uttered the words that changed everything:
—Hold her.
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