My MIL Said She’d Kick Me Out Of The House If I Didn’t Give Birth To A Boy This Time

He looked at the bags. At Patricia. At me.

“Why?” he said. “You’re leaving.”

Mason appeared behind him, eyes huge. “Mom? Why is Grandma taking our stuff?”

“Go wait in the living room, baby,” I said. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t.

Patricia dragged the bags to the front door and flung it open.

“Girls!” she called. “Come tell Mommy goodbye! She’s going back to her parents!”

Lily sobbed. Harper clung to my leg. Mason stood stiff, jaw tight.

I grabbed Derek’s arm. “Please. Look at them. Don’t do this.”

He leaned in close. “You should’ve thought about that before you kept failing.”

Then he folded his arms like a judge watching a sentence carried out.

Twenty minutes later, I stood barefoot on the porch. Three little girls crying around me. Our life stuffed into trash bags.

Patricia slammed the door. Derek didn’t come out.

I called my mom with shaking hands. “Can we come stay with you? Please.”