Chapter 1 - THREE SECONDS
My mother-in-law slapped my two-year-old daughter across the face.
My husband watched her do it.
Three seconds later, I slapped him three times, picked up my child, and ended my marriage.
The sound of Diane Bennett’s hand hitting Lily’s cheek cracked through the dining room.
Everything stopped.
The music.
The laughter.
The birthday livestream.
Even the clinking of silverware against expensive china.
Lily’s head snapped sideways.
Her tiny body twisted in Diane’s grip.
One yellow sock slipped halfway off her foot.
For one second, my daughter didn’t cry.
That was the worst part.
She just stared at me.
Her blue eyes were wide with confusion.
She had been taught that Grandma Diane loved her.
She had been taught to hug her.
Kiss her cheek.
Say thank you.
Trust her.
Now the red shape of Diane’s fingers was rising across Lily’s face.
Then Lily screamed.
My whole body went cold.
“Maybe now you’ll learn not to spill food,” Diane said.
She sounded irritated.
Not horrified.
Not sorry.
I looked at the overturned plastic bowl on the floor.
Brown soup had splashed across Diane’s ivory rug.
Lily hadn’t thrown it.
Diane had been yelling at Brooke about the birthday candles.
Lily had jumped.
Her elbow hit the bowl.
That was all.
Diane had grabbed a two-year-old child and hit her for being startled.
“Give her to me,” I said.
Diane frowned.
“Emily, don’t start.”
“Give me my daughter.”
“It was one little smack.”
I crossed the room.
“Give her to me.”
Diane’s eyes narrowed.
“You spoil this child.”
Behind her, my sister-in-law Brooke lowered her phone.
She had been livestreaming Diane’s sixty-second birthday dinner for relatives who couldn’t attend.
Nobody said a word.
My father-in-law stared at his plate.
Brooke’s husband took a drink.
Two cousins pretended not to look.
Then I turned toward Jason.
My husband.
Lily’s father.
He was sitting six feet away.
His fork was still in his hand.
A piece of steak hung between the tines.
He had seen everything.
“Jason.”
He looked at me.
Then at his mother.
Then at Lily.
His lips moved.
For one stupid second, I hoped.
I thought this might finally be the moment.
The moment he stood up.
The moment he became a father instead of Diane Bennett’s frightened little boy.
Instead, he sighed.
“Mom lost her temper.”
I stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t make this bigger than it needs to be.”
Something inside me snapped cleanly in half.
I crossed the room.
Jason barely had time to blink.
My hand struck his cheek.
His glasses flew off and landed directly in his soup.
Brooke screamed.
“Emily!”
Jason turned back toward me.
I slapped him again.
Then a third time.
One.
Two.
Three.
His chair scraped backward.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
I looked straight into his shocked face.
“You’re thirty-two years old.”
He touched his cheek.
“You can’t wash your own plate.”
“Emily—”
“You can’t tell your mother no.”
Diane stepped toward me.
“You better watch your mouth.”
I ignored her.
“And when your mother hits your two-year-old daughter right in front of you, you can’t even stand up.”
Jason’s face went red.
“Stop acting crazy.”
I pointed at Lily.
“By Diane’s rules, shouldn’t somebody hit you every time you fail?”
Diane shoved Lily toward Brooke and lunged at me.
“You psychotic little—”
I stepped aside.
Diane missed my hair.
Her hip slammed into the dining table.
Her arm swept across the chocolate birthday cake.
The cake crashed to the floor.
White frosting exploded across her silk slippers.
Diane screamed.
“My hip!”
Brooke rushed toward her.
“Oh my God, Mom!”
I didn’t care.
Lily was slipping from Brooke’s arms.
I caught my daughter before she hit the floor.
She buried her face against my neck.
Her body shook so hard I could feel it through my sweater.
“Mommy.”
“I’m here.”
“Mommy.”
“I’ve got you, baby.”
Jason stood there staring.
I walked toward the entryway.
Behind the bench was a canvas overnight bag.
I picked it up.
Jason’s expression changed.
“Why is that packed?”
I looked at him.
That was the first useful question he had asked all night.
Brooke stopped yelling.
Diane stopped complaining about her hip.
Everyone suddenly understood.
I had packed the bag before dinner.
Jason stepped closer.
“Emily.”
I lifted Lily higher against my chest.
“From tonight on, anyone who touches my daughter answers for it.”
Then I opened the door.
Jason followed me into the hallway.
“Emily, wait.”
I pressed the elevator button.
“You’re overreacting.”
The elevator doors opened.
I stepped inside.
“Mom’s blood pressure is already high.”
I stared at him.
His daughter had just been struck.
He was worried about his mother’s blood pressure.
I nodded once.
“Take care of her, Jason.”
His face tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“You’ve been choosing her your whole life.”
The doors began closing.
“Now you can have her.”
Jason grabbed the door.
“Emily, don’t do something stupid.”
I looked straight at him.
“I already did.”
He frowned.
“I married you.”
The doors closed.
Fifteen minutes later, Lily was sitting in an urgent-care exam room in Lincoln Park.
A doctor gently touched her swollen cheek.
She flinched so violently she almost fell from my lap.
Dr. Howard looked at me.
“How did this happen?”
I answered without blinking.
“Her grandmother hit her.”
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His pen stopped moving.
And that was when my real war with the Bennett family began.
