Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT THE GRAVY BURNED
That brings us to the night of the gravy. It started with a trivial argument over how I was preparing the main course, and ended with Lorraine standing in her kitchen, her face twisted in rage as she decided I had become too much of a liability. She gave the order, Walter delivered the blow, and Corey watched the whole thing—the burning pot, the collapsed belly, the agony—with that hollow, pathetic cowardice I had grown to despise.
As I lay there on the floor, gasping for air, the baby kicking inside me in an erratic, frightened rhythm, I looked up at the three of them. I didn't see family. I saw the people who had tried to erase me, and I felt a strange, cold power settle in my bones. They thought they had finally broken me, but they had actually freed me.
