After eight months of military service, I finally came home—only to find my newborn son dangerously ill and my wife sitting beside his crib, shaken and clearly hurt. My mother looked at me coldly and said, “She needed to learn her place,” while my sister shrugged and added, “The baby is her responsibility, not ours.”
Audrey began screaming as the handcuffs clicked shut.
“You can’t arrest me! I live here!”
“Not anymore,” Naomi said.
She handed both women formal notices ending their occupancy. The agreement allowed immediate removal if there was violence, criminal activity, or danger to a child.
A locksmith waiting outside came in with new locks.
