Chapter 1 - The Eviction
The dining room fell into a dead, suffocating silence.
The only sound in the entire house was Leo’s desperate, breathless crying against my chest.
Margaret stared up at me from the ornate Persian rug.
A bright red handprint was already blooming across her pale, wrinkled cheek.
She touched her face slowly.
Her eyes were wide with a mix of absolute shock and pure venom.
"You struck your own mother," she whispered.
Her voice trembled, but I knew it wasn't from fear.
It was from a deep, calculating rage.
My uncle Arthur finally snapped out of his stunned trance and stepped forward.
"Now listen here, son," Arthur started.
He held up his hands in a placating gesture.
"That kind of violence is entirely uncalled for."
I pointed a shaking, furious finger directly at his chest.
"If you want to defend her, you can pack your things and leave with her right now."
Arthur's jaw clicked shut instantly.
He looked down at his shoes, unwilling to meet my gaze.
I turned my attention back to the woman on the floor.
"I am not going to say it again," I growled.
"Get out of my house."
Margaret slowly pushed herself up from the floor.
She dusted off her expensive designer dress with agonizing slowness.
She wanted to show she was still in control.
"You are making a terrible mistake," she said coldly.
"That woman is completely unfit to raise my grandson."
Elena whimpered behind me, her fingers digging painfully into my shirt.
She was so weak she could barely stand on her own two feet.
"She is his mother," I fired back.
"And you are a monster."
I shifted Leo onto my shoulder, supporting his tiny head as he wailed.
With my free hand, I grabbed Margaret’s expensive leather purse from the nearby armchair.
I threw it forcefully toward the open front door.
It skidded across the hardwood floor, spilling lipstick and mints everywhere.
"Leave!" I roared.
My voice echoed off the high ceilings of the hallway.
The sheer volume of my shout finally broke the remaining relatives from their shock.
Aunt Carol scrambled to grab her coat from the rack.
Cousin Greg nervously shuffled toward the exit without making eye contact.
Margaret shot Elena a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.
"This isn't over," Margaret hissed.
"I will be calling my lawyer in the morning."
She turned on her heel and marched out the front door.
The rest of the family quickly followed her out into the cold night air.
I slammed the heavy oak door shut behind them.
I locked the deadbolt with a loud, satisfying click.
Before I could even take a breath, I felt Elena’s weight suddenly drop against my back.
May you like
I spun around just in time to catch her.
Her eyes had rolled completely back into her head.
