To save on rent, my sister-in-law teamed up with my mother to pester and cajole me until they moved into the house I’d just finished renovating. Later, when my nephew died of leukemia, my sister-in-law took out her grief on me. “You! You deliberately used the cheapest materials and killed my son!” Raving like a madwoman, she grabbed a fruit knife and stabbed at my swollen belly. “Since my son is dead, don’t think you’re going to give birth to that little bastard in your belly!” She stabbed me eighteen times. Neither my baby nor I survived. Perhaps Heaven took pity on me and gave me a chance to be reborn.
