They threw me and my six children out into the rain before my husband’s grave was even dry. My father-in-law pointed at the door and said, “Your husband is d3ad. This house belongs to the family.”

Mara glanced down at little Lily, asleep in her arms, her small body burning with fever. Behind Harold, Celeste stood with a thin smile and empty eyes.

“Family?” Mara asked quietly. “I gave your son six children.”

Celeste laughed. “Six burdens. Six reasons you should leave before we call the police.”

Neighbors watched from behind curtains. Harold wanted them to see. He wanted her humiliation to be public. He dragged two suitcases across the porch and tossed them into the mud.

“Those are your things.”

“My things?” Mara repeated.

“Be grateful we packed anything at all.”

Noah, her thirteen-year-old son, stepped forward. “Grandpa, please. Dad said—”