My Mother-in-Law Forced Me and My Three Daughters to Live in a Cramped Room Beside the Laundry, Constantly Telling Me, “A Woman Who Can't Give This Family a Son Is Worthless.” The Morning She Publicly Humiliated Me in Front of Forty Charity Donors, a Billionaire Quietly Took Off His Jacket, Wrapped It Around My Shivering Girls, and Said, “They're Leaving With Me.”.352

Whispers.

One donor frowned.

Another woman slowly set down her fork.

Margaret’s hand rose.

“You’re fortunate I didn’t send the four of you to an orphanage. Three daughters are nothing but the end of the family line.”

Then she slapped me.

The tray fell.

China shattered.

Blood touched my tongue.

And across the room, Richard Bennett placed his wineglass gently on the table.

“So this,” he said, “is what you call discipline?”

Margaret’s head turned.

For the first time all afternoon, uncertainty crossed her face.

Only for a heartbeat.

Then the smile returned.

“Richard, please. Emily is family. She has always had emotional difficulties. Michael struggled terribly with her manipulative tendencies.”

I touched my lip.

“I’m only family when someone needs the floors cleaned.”

Margaret looked at me.

I kept going.

“The rest of the time, I’m a servant who isn’t even paid.”