Before I could say another word, Ethan bent down and grabbed the shattered porcelain bowl of oatmeal off the floor. He shoved the shards and oatmeal straight into my mouth.
“Hazel and I have struggled to survive for the past three years. Yet, you’ve been leeching off the Moore family, living in comfort with that child in your belly! Well, let me make sure you get your fill today!” he barked.
I instantly choked, unable to speak. The sharp pieces of porcelain cut into the inside of my mouth, and blood gushed across my tongue.
I raised a hand to resist, but Hazel stomped her stiletto heel down hard on my hand.
Pain shot up my arm, and my hand trembled uncontrollably. I couldn’t even cry out.
Ethan spat in my face after stuffing every bit of that oatmeal into my mouth. He then clapped his hands and stood up.
Hazel’s stiletto heel shifted toward my swollen belly.
Terror gripped me. I grabbed her ankle with all the strength I had, trying desperately to stop her from stepping down.
Jeremiah has been infertile since birth. We finally conceived this child after we visited the best doctors across the country and abroad for three years.
