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My daughter told me I had two choices: serve her husband or leave her home…

“You are not bad,” Claire Bennett said, holding her daughter’s shaking hands inside that bright little salon in Brookhaven, Pennsylvania. Ava looked at her mother as if those four words were a door she had been locked outside of for weeks. Her small face was blotchy from silent crying, and the pink salon cape made her look even younger than eight. Behind them, the mirrors reflected too much: Marisol’s pale face, the frozen receptionist, the women pretending not to stare, and Claire’s phone still glowing with Daniel’s message.

Part 2: My mom announced her seventh pregnancy as if it were a blessing… and I realized I would once again have to raise a child that wasn’t mine. That same afternoon, I packed my backpack, left the house, and an hour later, the police were knocking on my aunt’s door.

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