I was so worried that I became enraged. So, I yelled at her, "Mom! She’s your sister, not mine! It’s your responsibility to take care of her, not mine! Grandfather told you to look after her so what does that have to do with me? Haven’t they ruined my life enough?"

In my arms, my daughter’s cries weakened. My heart dropped. I could not think of anything else. All I wanted to do was to go to the kitchen and rinse the child's mouth.

My mom was furious and swung her arm to slap me while yelling, "Ungrateful son, I'll beat you to death! I won't let you walk all over me!"

Mateo went forward and pulled my mom in a false manner then coaxed her, "Aunt, let him go. You know my cousin is small-minded. Don't make yourself angry."

My mother's expression immediately changed when she saw Mateo come and pursue her. She said softly, "Good boy. Only you who are respectful. I won't get angry anymore. It's pointless."

When she turned to me, she glared viciously and retorted, "Nothing in you comparable with your cousin. You two are so different, how the hell did I ever give birth to a loser like you?"

Mateo helped my mom back to the table and sat down as if nothing had just happened.

My daughter who was lying on my arm suddenly bobbed her head up and down frantically. Something felt off. I glanced down and there it was, a small patch of blood staining my clothes.

I shouted to Tia, "Blood! Tia! Our daughter is coughing blood!"

My daughter's eyebrows were furrowed, her eyes were closed tightly and only a pair of small hands were gripping my clothes tightly, enduring the pain with great difficulty.

I turned around to face the crowd then threatened my aunt, "Auntie, if something happens to my girl today, I won't let you off the hook! Tia, let's go to the hospital!”

Tia, who was at the other end of the table, was stunned for a moment when she saw the blood stain on my clothes. Then she immediately took action and ran toward me. I picked up my daughter and ran outside.

"Get the car! We’re going to the hospital immediately!"

In panic, I rushed to the car. Just as I opened the door, my mother rushed forward and gripped the car window then said, "She has been drinking! She can’t drive! She’s been drinking!"

I was already so anxious that my teeth were chattering and I turned my head and yelled angrily at Tia, “Have you been drinking? How can you drink? What about the baby?”