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“Try doing it without making everyone worship you.”
While holding my newborn after a C-section, I texted my parents: Please, can someone come help me? Mom read it. Said nothing. Six days later, Dad tried to withdraw $2,300 from my account.
“I asked for help after surgery.”
“You asked to be pitied.”
I smiled, though my hands were shaking. “Did Dad forge my signature?”
Silence.
Then Dad came back, voice lower. “Careful, Claire.”
