The ballroom glowed with soft amber light spilling down from crystal chandeliers, their reflections dancing across polished floors and ivory tablecloths. Everything about the space was designed to feel warm, celebratory, and safe, the kind of place where families gathered to toast love and new beginnings. My cousin Bridget’s wedding reception had been beautiful so far, the kind of evening people talked about for years afterward. I remember thinking how peaceful it felt in that moment, sitting quietly at table seven with my hands resting protectively over my swollen belly.
I stayed seated. My father walked over and kicked my chair hard from behind, making me f a. l l backwards. I landed on my pregnant belly and my water b r oke all over the floor. My mom…
