My promotion party turned into a nightmare when my husband ᴘᴜɴᴄʜᴇᴅ me in front of everyone. Then his entire family surrounded me and calmly said, “Only God can save you”—like what I’d just suffered was my fault.

For a brief moment there was silence, the kind that felt like the entire world holding its breath. Then Luke said firmly, “Stay on the phone with me and do not hang up. I am calling emergency services right now, and if you can put me on speaker it will help.”

Victor’s hand tightened painfully on my shoulder as he demanded, “Who are you calling?”

I did not respond. I held the phone tightly while sweat made the screen slippery in my palm.

Across the table Patricia shook her head with practiced disapproval. “Julia, you are embarrassing the family,” she said coldly. “You should feel grateful that Victor tolerates your attitude.”

My cheek pulsed painfully. I looked toward Renee, who had turned pale while staring at me with wide eyes, her hand hovering near her mouth. Behind her my supervisor, Douglas Whitaker, appeared shocked and uncertain, trapped between professional training and simple human fear.

Harold Langford clasped his hands together like a preacher delivering a sermon. “This situation is spiritual,” he announced loudly enough for nearby diners to glance toward us. “Only God can save you.”