At my sister’s wedding, my “senile” grandfather was seated beside a trash bin to “protect the family image.

SMACK.

The sound of her open palm striking my cheek cracked like a leather whip over the quiet room.

The physical force of the blow snapped my head violently to the side. A sharp, stinging pain exploded across my face, and my left ear instantly began to ring with a high-pitched whine.

Several guests at the surrounding tables gasped audibly.

“You ungrateful brat!” Eleanor spat, her voice losing its hushed, panicked tone, rising into a shrill, hysterical screech. The mask of the elegant society matriarch completely disintegrated. “You are embarrassing this family! You have always been a jealous, pathetic disappointment! Get him out of here!”