"No," I growled through clenched teeth. "You’re coming with me to the police station. This is theft, Nicole and I won’t let you wriggle out of it this time."

Nicole’s cries turned into high-pitched wails as she thrashed wildly. Just then, the sound of the front door creaking open filled the house. She froze for a moment before screaming even louder, her voice shrilled with desperation.

"Mom! Help me! She’s trying to kill me!"

I tightened my grip as she writhed and called out for her mother, using every ounce of her manipulative energy to twist the situation once again.

My mother-in-law and husband froze at the sight of Nicole and me in a heated struggle, the tension between us palpable.

I turned toward them, my voice breaking under the weight of suppressed anger. "Look! There's a thief in this house. Today, I’m going to..."

Slap!

Before I could finish, my husband struck me across the face, silencing me. The sharp sting reverberated through my cheek, leaving one side of my face burning and my ears ringing.

I stared at him in shock, unable to process what had just happened.

He didn’t offer an apology, nor did he show remorse. Instead, he rushed to Nicole’s side, pulling her toward my mother-in-law while glaring at me with venom in his eyes.

"That’s my sister," he barked. "I’ve never laid a finger on her since she was a child. Who do you think you are?"

I stood there, frozen, my disbelief mixing with the pain coursing through my face.

This was the man I had married, the father of my children—and now, my assailant. His eyes held no trace of the affection I once believed in, only the instinct to shield everyone in the family except me.

My mother-in-law, stunned at first, quickly regained her composure. Seeing that my husband offered me no support, she doubled down, embracing Nicole and sobbing theatrically.

"Do you know how hard it was to give birth to Nicole after ten months of pregnancy?" she wailed, rubbing her daughter's hair as though to shield her from some great injustice.

I felt a bitter chill seep into my chest. It was as if I had been cast out of my own life, reduced to an outsider. Memories of all I had done for this family surfaced—paying Nicole’s tuition, buying gifts for my mother-in-law—and suddenly, it all felt meaningless.

I should’ve fed that money to the dogs; at least they would’ve been loyal.