The slap landed so sharply that my teeth snapped together, and for a moment, everything in front of me went bright white. One second, I was standing in my own living room. The next, my shoulder hit the wall beneath my wedding portrait.
My mother-in-law, Evelyn Ward, stood above me, her hand still lifted.
“Get up,” she snapped. “Women like you don’t get to cry.”
Behind her, my sister-in-law Marissa laughed, her red lips curling with satisfaction. Then she leaned down and spat near my hand.
“Oops,” she said. “Missed.”
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