I was holding my newborn when my uncle walked into the hospital room and saw the marks on my neck.

tiny hand unfurled against my hospital gown. I forced down the pain, the fury, and the metallic taste of shame. “His name is Eli,” I whispered.

Caleb’s chair dragged against the floor. “What did you say?”

Before he could get up, the door swung open.

My uncle Ray entered with a paper bag of apple muffins and his old brown coat on his shoulders. He was continue reading …