My father reached for my arm.
I pulled it away before he could get a firm grip.
“Don't touch me.”
He looked almost surprised.
Perhaps he had expected the same frightened girl who used to stand silently while he explained why everything was always my fault.
That girl had grown up.
But I was also eight months pregnant, exhausted, and still trying to understand how to live without my husband.
I wasn't prepared for a fight.
Charles caught my arm again.
I tried to step backward, but the chair pressed against the backs of my legs.
“Let go of me.”
He tightened his fingers.
Courtney watched from beside the counter.
She could have told him to stop.
She could have stepped between us.
Instead, she folded her arms and watched as if the argument had become entertainment.
I twisted my arm free.
My father moved closer.
Then he grabbed my hair.
The pain came so suddenly that I couldn't make sense of it at first.
My head jerked backward.
I reached for his wrist, trying to loosen his grip, but he had already started pulling me toward the front door.
I stumbled.
One bare foot slid across the floor.
My other hand went straight to my stomach.
The baby.
That was all I could think about.
I wasn't thinking about the house anymore.
I wasn't thinking about the folder.
I was thinking about the small life inside me and how helpless I felt with my father dragging me across the room.
“Stop! You're hurting me!”
He kept moving.
Behind us, Courtney made a sound that I first mistook for surprise.
Then she laughed.
I turned my face toward her as much as I could.
“Tell him to stop!”
She didn't answer.
Her laughter made the kitchen feel unfamiliar.
I had known Courtney for long enough to understand that she enjoyed being on the winning side of an argument.
What I hadn't understood was how little it mattered to her that I was pregnant.
My father reached the front door and pulled it open.
Cold air swept into the hallway.
I tried to brace myself against the frame, but his hand was still tangled in my hair.
He shoved me forward.
I landed on the porch, striking one knee against the hard surface.
My palms hit the boards before my stomach could.
For a few seconds, I stayed where I was.
I couldn't seem to draw a full breath.
The porch railing blurred in front of me.
I heard my father moving behind me.
Then I felt something warm running down my legs.
At first, I thought I had lost control of my bladder from the shock.
Then I looked down.
My hands began to shake.
“No.”
The word barely came out.
I pressed a hand against my stomach.
Another wave of fear passed through me, stronger than the first.
“My water broke.”
I didn't say it loudly.
I wasn't trying to frighten anyone.
I was telling myself what had happened because I needed to understand it.
Courtney appeared in the doorway.
For one brief second, she covered her mouth.
I thought she had finally realized that something terrible had happened.
Then I saw her face.
She was still amused.
My father looked down at me as if I had created an inconvenience for him.
He went back inside.
A moment later, my handbag came flying through the doorway and landed beside my hip.
The contents shifted inside it.
My keys struck the porch with a small metallic sound.
“Call someone if you want,” Charles said.
Then he turned away.
I stared at the open doorway.
The house was right there.
My kitchen.
My chair.
The coffee I had forgotten to drink.
Lucas's photograph beside the refrigerator.
Everything I had been trying to hold together was only a few steps away, and my father had thrown me out as if I had never belonged there.
I wanted to scream at him.
I wanted to ask how he could look at his own daughter and do this.
Instead, I reached for my handbag.
My fingers were clumsy.
I found my phone beneath my wallet and pulled it free.
I had to try twice before I unlocked it.
For a moment, I considered calling emergency services immediately.
I knew I should.
I knew the baby mattered more than the argument, more than the house, more than anything my father might do next.
But I also knew I needed help from someone who understood what Lucas had put in place before he died.
Someone who could tell me whether my father had any legal right to be inside that house.
Someone who could stop him from touching anything else.
I opened my contacts.
Samantha Vance.
Lucas's attorney.
I pressed her name.
The phone rang once.
Then again.
I held it against my ear and tried to steady my breathing.
When Samantha answered, her voice was familiar enough to make me feel that I wasn't completely alone.
“Victoria?”
I swallowed.
“My father is here.”
She paused.
“What happened?”
“He came into the house with Courtney. He says I have to leave.”
I looked toward the doorway.
My father had disappeared into the hallway.
“He grabbed me and dragged me outside.”
Samantha's voice became sharper.
“Are you hurt?”
“My water broke.”
The words seemed to change the entire conversation.
“Victoria, listen carefully. I need you to call 911 immediately.”
I closed my eyes.
“I will.”
“Do it now. Tell them you're eight months pregnant, that your water has broken, and that you've been assaulted.”
I nodded even though she couldn't see me.
Then I remembered the folder.
“He says Lucas left debts. He says the house has to be sold.”
Samantha was silent for a moment.
When she spoke again, she sounded different.
Not confused.
Not surprised.
Angry.
“Your father has no authority to make that decision.”
I looked through the doorway.
Charles was moving toward Lucas's office.
“What do you mean?”
“Victoria, stay where you are. Don't go back inside. I'll explain what I can, but your immediate safety comes first.”
I tightened my hand around the phone.
For the first time since my father arrived, I felt something other than fear.
It wasn't relief.
Not yet.
It was the realization that Charles might have made a terrible mistake.
And I had no idea how much he had already done.
Click here to continue reading: PART 3: Lucas’s Attorney Asked Me One Question About My Father, and Suddenly the Folder He Brought Looked Very Different
Three Weeks After My Husband Died, My Father Walked Into My Kitchen and Told Me I No Longer Belonged There
Part 2 of 24
