Nobody moved.
Then Sarah reached for her phone.
“I’m calling the police,” she said. “I’ll tell them you attacked me.”
“Go ahead,” I said.
She blinked.
I think she expected begging.
She expected apology.
She expected me to remember that Michael hated conflict and would always try to end it by asking me to be the reasonable one.
But my child had blood under her nose.
There was no reasonable version of me left for Sarah to negotiate with.
At 1:42 p.m., I took my phone from my back pocket and called the number printed on the benefits card in my wallet.
My hands were shaking, but my voice was clear.
“I need to cancel the supplemental medical card under Sarah Mitchell’s name,” I told the representative. “Yes. Effective immediately. Please document the request on the account file.”
Sarah stopped screaming.
Her whole face changed.
That was when I learned what she truly feared.
