Chapter 3

My warning had the opposite effect. Brenda saw it not as a chance to reconsider, but as a direct challenge to her authority. Her face hardened, and her eyes glinted with malice.

"You' ve got a sharp tongue, don' t you?" she hissed. "Looks like I' ll have to teach you some manners myself."

Before I could react, she swung her arm back and slapped me across the face.

SMACK!

The force of it snapped my head to the side. A sharp, stinging pain exploded on my cheek. The sound echoed in the cavernous room. Her rings cut my skin, and I could taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

For a second, I was just stunned. No one had laid a hand on me in my entire life.

Then, pure fury surged through me.

I swung back, aiming my own slap at her smug face. But her friends were ready. Two of them grabbed my arms from behind, pinning them back so hard I thought my shoulders would pop. They were strong, wiry country women, and their grips were like steel.

"Let go of me!" I shouted, struggling against their hold.

But they held me fast, leaving me completely vulnerable.

Brenda smiled, a cruel, triumphant twist of her lips. She stepped forward and slapped me again. And again. And again.

She struck me over and over, a relentless barrage of blows. My head swam, and my ears started ringing. My face was on fire, each slap a fresh wave of agony. I felt a trickle of warm blood run from the corner of my mouth down my chin.

"Who' s in charge now?" she grunted between slaps. "Huh? Who' s the boss now, you arrogant bitch?"

She grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back so I was forced to look at her. Her face was inches from mine, her breath hot and foul.

"You will learn your place," she seethed. "You will learn to respect your husband and his family."

Through the haze of pain, I tried to make them understand. I had to end this madness.

"He' s a househusband!" I gasped, my voice hoarse. "Mark is a kept man! He lives off me! He..."

SMACK!

Another vicious slap cut me off, harder than the rest. My vision blurred, and black spots danced in front of my eyes.

"Still telling lies!" Brenda screamed. "Still trying to slander my son!"

She let go of my hair and, with a guttural roar, kicked me hard in the stomach.

I crumpled forward, the air knocked out of my lungs. I would have collapsed to the floor if her friends weren't still holding me up. The pain in my abdomen was a deep, sickening cramp.

Brenda stared down at my stomach with a look of pure disgust.

"Useless. A useless womb that can' t even give me a grandson," she muttered. Then, a sick, sly look came over her face. "But I came prepared for that, too."

She turned to one of her cronies. "Get it."

The woman scurried to a cheap cloth bag they had brought with them and pulled out a small, wriggling burlap sack. She handed it to Brenda, who opened it with a flourish.

Inside was a large, slimy, wart-covered toad. It blinked its beady eyes in the bright light of my living room.

"My village has a special remedy for barren women like you," Brenda said, a grotesque smile spreading across her face. "You swallow this whole. Guarantees a son. Maybe even twins."

She held the squirming creature up in front of my face.

"Now, open wide. It' s time to secure the Davis family line. I want my ten grandsons."