But on my swollen, bruised cheek, it only seemed pale and helpless.

Mrs. Keller helped me up. "Look at you, your face is swollen like this, it's just pitiful. And she’s still having his child? How can you do this to her!"

Lydia was furious, her neck stiffened, and she took on her usual unreasonable attitude. "We’re disciplining my daughter-in-law. What business is it of yours? Go away, all of you…"

With that, she stormed toward me.

Shivering all over, I hid behind Mrs. Keller, clutching her clothes like they were the only lifeline I had.

Sure enough, Mrs. Keller, feeling sorry for me, patted my shoulder. "It’s okay, sweetheart. Mrs. Keller is here to protect you today!"

I trembled in Mrs. Keller's arms.

Standing nearby, Mr. Keller stepped in front of Mrs. Keller, shouting angrily, "I dare you!"

Lydia flinched and took a step back, visibly intimidated by Mr. Keller. "What... what do you want to do?"

"What do I want to do?" Mr. Keller turned to Mrs. Keller. "Honey, call the cops!"

Marcus rushed forward, trying to stop him. "No, no…"

But as soon as he moved, several angry neighbors stepped in, blocking him.

In the end, the police were called.

As soon as they arrived, they scolded Marcus and Lydia.

When they turned to me, I cried out in pain, wailing.

Reluctantly, they had no choice but to take me to the hospital.

My doctor, Dr. Mira Chaw, was a woman who showed deep sympathy for me.

At my pleading, Dr. Chaw exaggerated my condition, insisting that I stay in the hospital for observation.

My daughter and I checked into the hospital, and I began my confinement there.

Lydia and Marcus, under the repeated warnings from the police, were told that if they abused me again, Marcus would be detained.

Lydia, though extremely reluctant, brought me meals three times a day, claiming that Dr. Chaw said hospital food and takeout with too much oil and salt were not suitable for a postpartum woman.

Postpartum women need nutritious meals, Dr. Chaw would occasionally come by to check on my food, sometimes even pointing out the menu to my mother-in-law, Lydia.

The other patients in the ward also kept an eye on Lydia. If my meals were even a bit too simple, they'd shake their heads in disapproval in front of Lydia.

After a few times, Lydia, embarrassed, dared not cut corners.

I stayed in the hospital for the full month of my confinement. I was pampered, plump and healthy, my milk abundant, and my daughter grew more and more beautiful and lively.

During this time, Marcus only came to visit me twice, each time under pressure from the hospital to pay outstanding fees. He came to settle the bills.

Every time he came with that look of sympathy mixed with forced generosity, I couldn't help but feel a dark sense of satisfaction. I knew the costs had to be high.

On the other hand, Mrs. Keller from next door came to visit me often, always bringing fresh fruit.

I had married Marcus, and due to my situation and the constant abuse from him and his mother, I felt so inferior and pitiful that I avoided neighbors.

Though Mrs. Keller lived next door, I barely knew her. Whenever we met, I would only nod, not even engaging in conversation.

But unexpectedly, that neighbor I had only nodded to gave me the greatest kindness of my life.

And Dr. Chaw, the patients...

It turned out that some things can't just be tolerated to bring understanding.

Some people, the more you tolerate them, the more they take advantage.

When the confinement period ended and I was discharged from the hospital, Marcus made the rare effort to come pick up me and our child.

As soon as I entered the house, I was met with a chaotic mess, a home that looked like a garbage dump.

Lydia was lounging on the couch, legs stretched out, watching TV. The spot under her was probably the only area that wasn’t dirty.