Chapter 1: The Last Straw
Chapter 1: The Last Straw
The silence that followed his words was heavier than any shout.
"Everyone, stand up."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
His mother frowned as she slowly muted the television.
"What is wrong with you?" she asked.
He ignored her.
Instead, he walked into the kitchen.
Without saying a word, he gently took the sponge from his wife's trembling hands.
Her fingers were wrinkled from soaking in hot water for hours.
Fresh burn marks covered her wrists.
He looked down at her swollen feet.
She wasn't even wearing slippers anymore.
"Go sit down," he whispered.
She hesitated.
"But dinner..."
"I said sit."
His voice remained gentle toward her.
Then he turned toward the living room.
His expression hardened.
"Who made these dishes?"
No one answered.
His sister shrugged.
"We all ate."
"So all of you made this mess."
Another silence.
His mother folded her arms.
"She's the woman of the house now. Cleaning is her responsibility."
His jaw tightened.
"My wife is carrying our child."
He pointed toward the sink.
"She is not your servant."
His relatives exchanged nervous glances.
May you like
For the first time that night...
Nobody smiled.
