Without any preamble, he told me to pack my things because we were moving to his mother’s house.
My brother-in-law’s family would take over our apartment, and I was to sleep in the storage room.
I sat there, stunned and holding my babies, my hands trembling in disbelief and anger.
Then, out of nowhere, the doorbell rang.
Something about the way he said it made the room feel smaller—a mix of cold finality and an expectation that I wouldn’t argue.
“…”
The babies fussed in my arms, but amid my shock, the tiny sound of the doorbell’s chime felt almost like a warning.
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