I never told my in-laws that I am the daughter of the President of the Supreme Court. When I was seven months pregnant, they forced me to cook the entire Christmas dinner alone.

I had been cooking since 5:00 a.m. for my in laws’ Christmas dinner, and the smell of roasted turkey and cinnamon should have made the kitchen feel warm and festive. Instead the air felt heavy because my swollen feet ached from standing all morning while my back throbbed from carrying a seven month pregnancy.

But when I asked to sit down because of the back pain from my seventh month of pregnancy, my mother in law, Patricia Gaines, slammed her hand on the dining table with a loud crack that silenced the room.

“Servants do not sit with the family,” she spat angrily. “You can eat in the kitchen later while standing after we finish dinner, so learn your place in this house.”

My husband Gregory Gaines lifted his wine glass without even glancing at me and took a slow sip as if the scene in front of him were unimportant.

“Listen to my mother, Amelia,” he said in a bored tone. “Do not embarrass me in front of my colleagues tonight.”

A sudden cramp twisted through my stomach and forced me to grab the counter for support while my breath came out in a shaky gasp.

“Gregory, it hurts,” I whispered desperately.

Patricia followed me into the kitchen and her expression looked twisted with fury because she believed I had challenged her authority.

“Pretending again so you can avoid work,” she sneered with contempt.

Before I could step away she pushed me hard with both hands against my chest, and my body lost balance as my swollen feet slipped on the smooth kitchen tile.

I fell backward and my lower back slammed violently into the sharp granite edge of the kitchen island while a burning pain exploded through my stomach.

Bright red blood began spreading across the white floor tiles beneath me while the shock froze my body.

“My baby,” I whispered in horror while pressing my hands against my stomach.

Gregory rushed into the kitchen along with his coworker Brandon Cole, and the moment Gregory saw the blood his expression tightened with annoyance rather than concern.

“Good grief, Amelia, you always create chaos,” Gregory muttered irritably. “Get up and clean this before the guests notice.”

“I am losing the baby, call emergency services now,” I begged while tears streamed down my face.

“No,” Gregory snapped sharply.

He grabbed my phone from the counter and smashed it against the kitchen wall so violently that the screen shattered into pieces.