Chapter 3

She cursed, "Susan, you heartless bitch! Open the door! What kind of person fights a grown man over a piece of meat? What kind of bad karma did the Miller family rack up to end up with someone like you?"

Ryan echoed, "Susan, just open up! Give me the steak and I'll get my mom to stop yelling, okay? You're making such a scene that the whole building can hear it. Aren't you embarrassed?"

Good cop, bad cop. One yelled, the other pretended to negotiate. Perfect teamwork.

Henry looked torn apart by anxiety and shame. He rubbed his hands together and instinctively moved toward the door.

He pleaded, "Susan, just let them in. We can talk it out. Don't let the neighbors watch us make fools of ourselves."

I grabbed his wrist. The strength in my grip surprised even me.

I stared him straight in the eyes and warned him, slowly and clearly, "If you open that door today, we file for divorce tomorrow."

His body jerked. His hand froze inches from the lock.

He didn't dare move.

But the look in his eyes was still full of confusion and blame, as if he truly believed I was overreacting and causing trouble for no reason.

I didn't bother arguing anymore.

Actions spoke louder than words.

I turned and walked to the storage room, dragging out a cardboard box nearly half my height.

Henry stood there, stunned, as I tore it open and pulled out a brand-new silver mini fridge.

I'd bought it on Black Friday with my own savings. Quietly. I'd been preparing for this day for a long time.

Ignoring his shock and the increasingly vile shouting outside, I walked into the kitchen.

In front of him, I packed both big cuts of steak from the counter, along with every supplement my mom had brought, neatly into the fridge.

Then, straining, I pushed the fully loaded mini fridge toward my bedroom.

The harsh scraping sound against the floor rang through the apartment, carving a hard, unmistakable line right down the middle of this so-called home.

I stopped at my bedroom door and turned back to Henry, who was still standing there like he'd been struck dumb.

Calmly, I said, "From today on, this household is split. I live with my child. That's one unit. You, your mom, and your brother are another.

"Food is separate. Expenses are separate. And everything in this fridge belongs to me and my daughter. If you want any of it, that's fine. Pay for it."

Henry finally snapped out of it and rushed toward me, his face filled with disbelief. "Susan! You just had a baby. Stop making a scene, okay? What are you even trying to do?"

"Making a scene?"

I took out my phone, turned on the voice recorder, and clearly recorded the filthy things Megan and Ryan were shouting outside the door.

Then I played a short clip right in front of him. "A useless girl who can't even give birth to a son. We'll kick you out of the Miller family sooner or later."

I stopped the recording, held up my phone, and asked him, "Is this the kind of environment you want your daughter to grow up in?"

Right then, loud, distressed crying came from the bedroom. Our daughter had been woken up by the noise.

That cry pierced straight through my chest and shattered the last bit of hesitation I had left.

I did not look at him again. Holding the small fridge that belonged to me alone, I walked into the bedroom without another word.

I shut the door.

Then, I locked it.

Outside the door were Henry's shock, Megan's screaming, and Ryan's jeering.

Inside were my daughter's cries in my arms, and a heart that had gone completely cold, yet never been more certain.

Just one door apart, and they were two different worlds.

I left Henry alone in the living room to deal with his chaotic family and the suffocating silence of the house.

What he chose to do next was his problem.

As for me, it was time to strike back.