"You are nothing compared to your sister. Some people are just different. Why did I even give birth to such a disgraceful daughter like you?"
Julia led my mother back to the dining table, as if nothing had happened.
I felt my daughter stirring weakly in my arms. Something was wrong.
Then, I saw it.
Blood.
A small stain bloomed on my clothes. My breath caught in my throat.
"Blood! Nate! Our daughter is coughing up blood!"
She furrowed her tiny brows, her eyes fluttering shut, her little fingers clinging to my shirt with the last bit of her strength.
Panic surged through me. I turned sharply to face everyone at the table.
"Aunt, if anything happens to my daughter today, I won’t let this go! Nate, we need to get to the hospital!"
Nate, who had been lazily sitting at the other end of the table, froze at the sight of blood. Then, snapping back to reality, he bolted toward me.
He scooped up our daughter, his hands trembling.
"Hurry! Get in the car! We need to go—now!"
I scrambled into the passenger seat, my heart pounding. Just as Nate was about to start the engine, my mother suddenly rushed over, gripping the car window.
"Nate is drunk! He’s been drinking! He can’t drive!"