A young mother is humiliated in the kitchen

CHAPTER 1 - The Kitchen Door

The first thing I remember is the sound of water running.

Then my own breathing.

Then the shame.

The party was in full swing beyond the open doorway. I could hear glasses clinking, laughter rising and falling, music pulsing softly under it all.

That was when he came in.

Derek stopped so fast it looked like the air itself had hit him. He was dressed in a dark wine-colored suit, his face tight with alarm.

"What is happening in my kitchen?"

Before I could answer, Elena stepped into the doorway behind him, her gold dress catching the light like armor. She looked at me as if I were something she had found on the floor.

"Oh, stop acting wounded," she said. "She only wanted to make herself useful."

Derek's hand touched my shoulder, careful and warm.

"Look at me. Did you choose to wash dishes at my party?"

My throat closed. I could barely breathe.

Then I heard myself say it.

"No. She said my place was in the kitchen because I am the mother of your child."

The words hung there.

Derek's face changed.

Not just anger. Something colder. Something that made Elena's smile falter.

He turned to her slowly. "This party is over. Get out of my house. Now."

He pulled me into his arms before I could even understand what had happened. I cried against his shoulder while Elena stood frozen in the doorway.

Then my phone vibrated in my apron pocket.

A text from an unknown number.

Don't let him see the baby's birth certificate. Ask who signed it.