Chapter 3 - THE DRIVE HOME AND THE POLICE CALL
Watching my mother look down at my recovering wife with cold satisfaction hit harder than the broken glass itself. I started the car immediately, using the hands-free system to call for emergency help. I provided our address, explained that my postpartum wife was bleeding, and reported that our newborn was being held hostage by a family member inside the house. Then I drove. Those three blocks had never felt so long, my mind racing as I prepared to face the woman who had weaponized her own grandmotherly status against the people I loved most.
