I came home after a brutal shift wanting two things: coffee and silence.
Instead, I walked into my own kitchen and found my mother-in-law sipping a mimosa like she owned the house.
She looked at my scrubs like they were proof of failure.
And she smiled the way people smile when they think they’ve finally cornered you.
“Stop telling people you work at the hospital,” she sneered. “It’s a lie.”
My husband didn’t defend me.
He never did.
Two hours later, a process server rang the bell.
And in one manila envelope, my in-laws tried to turn my career into a crime.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
