Natalie’s mother, Portia, fixed me with a hard, accusing stare.

“Helen, how could you treat my daughter like this, even in front of everyone?” she demanded.

I stared back at Natalie, unblinking. "When did I ever say those things? When did I ever bully you?"

Furious, Natalie spat back, “When I walked in, I saw you slap Tommy. I told you twice to stop, and instead, you cursed at me. Then, when John came in, you took advantage of him being on your side and hit me twice.”

She turned to John, her tone shifting into wounded outrage. “Honey, you saw it, didn’t you? You saw her slap me.”

John hesitated, then answered carefully, his voice low and measured. “I didn’t go in to help Mom. I meant to stop her, but I didn’t expect she’d hit you. Don’t worry, babe. Even if she’s my mother, I won’t stand by and let her bully you or Tommy.”

He turned to his wife with a concerned expression and gave her a steady, apologetic look.

Usually, John always sided with Natalie, and I let it slide. But now, I never expected him to support her in making up such a false accusation against me.

I was the apple of my family's eye when I was young.

After I got married, I became my husband’s treasure, and as Dr. Suzette Newman, I earned the respect of everyone in the medical community. After retiring, several hospitals even asked me to return to work.

It was Natalie who didn’t trust the nanny to care for Tommy, so I stepped in to help.

After everything I’d done for them, this was how it turned out. The thought sank in slowly but painfully. Once my grandson started school and no longer needed me, they’d have no use for me either. I’d just become another burden they wanted to get rid of.

At that moment, I had had enough of being quiet. I wasn’t going to leave without speaking my mind.

I looked directly at John and said, “Say that again. I’ve been staying quiet and letting things go for the sake of your marriage, but I won’t accept being accused of something I didn’t do. You just married Natalie, and now you’ve already forgotten your own mother. If that’s true, then I guess I’m the unlucky one here. But be a man, John. Have some conscience.”

"Conscience? If you had any conscience, you’d admit your mistakes, Helen," Natalie interrupted sharply.

Then she turned to John and said, “Honey, what are you so afraid of? These days, everyone’s equal. Your mother doesn’t get to boss you around just because she’s older. There are plenty of elders here besides her. Just tell the truth.”

John turned to me, his expression hardening. "Mom, if you’ve done something wrong, you need to admit it."

I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

The sound of the slap echoed through the room, and for several long moments, the atmosphere became tense and eerily silent.

Natalie completely lost it. “You all saw that, right? This is what she’s always like. The minute she gets upset, she hits someone. If things don’t go her way, she lashes out. John and I have been walking on eggshells in this house.”

She turned to John, her tone turning firm but coaxing. “Honey, don’t be scared. Everyone’s here, and no one’s going to judge you. Stand up for yourself and set an example for Tommy. When someone mistreats you, you should fight back.”

“Yes, fight back,” Portia said, eager to back Natalie. “If Helen does not care about you, I do. From now on, we will all live together as one big family.”

“Are you going to hit me?” I asked.

I moved closer, reducing the gap between my son and me.

Natalie’s uncle moved up behind John. “What are you afraid of? We will back you up.”

Joining the dissent, her younger sister called out from the side. “Yeah, John, hit her. She is disrespecting her elders and deserves to be punished.”

“Hit her,” Natalie’s aunt said, with her hands on her hips. “If she dares to fight back, your uncle will make sure she pays for it.”

I watched John, waiting for him to make a choice. Accusing me was one thing, but physically hitting me would be a different matter.

“If you won’t, I will,” Natalie’s uncle said with finality, raising his hand as he stepped forward.

And so, John moved faster.

He slapped me across the face. The look on his face shifted to one that was cold and alien after he struck me.

John then fixed his gaze on me, his voice cold. “Apologize to Tommy. If you apologize, you can stay in the house. If you don’t, get out.”

A smug smile spread across Natalie’s face. "What’s the point of showing off in front of us at your age? Haven’t you thought about what’ll happen when you’re too old to move? If you keep treating us this way, don’t be surprised when karma catches up with you. If I were you, I’d just apologize and be done with it."

I couldn’t hear anything else she said after that. When John slapped me, my heart sank.

My face stung, but the ache in my chest was even worse.

“All right, I'll go,” I muttered. “I’m leaving right now.”

I turned and walked toward the bedroom, or rather, the small storage room under the stairs.

This villa had many rooms, but none were ever meant for me.

My grandson had a study room, and Natalie turned a bedroom into a yoga studio with a calming atmosphere.

Moreover, Portia had her own room, and while Natalie’s sister rarely stayed over, a room was set aside for her that was never used.

Natalie's relatives also had rooms, and the only space left for me was a small, empty storage room.

It didn’t even have much to clear out.

I hadn’t bought myself a single new piece of clothing in years, so packing everything I owned didn’t take long.

As I folded my clothes, memories of my brother-in-law’s advice from years ago flooded my mind. I couldn’t help but wish I could slap myself across the face.

I’m an only child, and when my parents’ old house was demolished, Natalie suggested we use the money to buy a villa.

Daniel's brother, Leroy, said it was fine, but the property deed should be in my name.

At the time, I thought it would be easier to avoid conflict between Natalie and John over ownership, since I only had one son. So, I agreed to put both of their names on the deed.

Looking back now, I could only blame myself.

I glanced around the tiny storage room, already preparing to leave, when John walked in.

"Mom," he began, his tone measured, "with everyone watching just now, it wouldn’t have been right for me to stand by. I know you’re innocent, but as an elder, you should have been more patient."

He hesitated, then added, "Besides, Tommy is your grandson. Apologizing won’t cost you anything."

When John, knowing full well I’d been wronged, still spoke to me with that righteous tone, I was too exhausted to argue.

But he wasn’t done and continued, "Also, I just spoke to Natalie. She’s not as angry now. She said that as long as you apologize to Tommy and her, you can stay in the house."

“Get out of my way,” I said coldly, staring straight at him.

"Mom, I spoke on your behalf," he said, sounding almost impatient. "Natalie’s given you a chance to apologize. Come on, it’s New Year’s Eve. Don’t make things worse than they already are. Everyone’s waiting for dinner. What kind of person leaves dinner half-cooked?

When I didn’t respond, he pushed further. "You’re the elder here. Can’t you be a little more forgiving? Are you really happy now that such a small thing has caused all this trouble?”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

"Small thing?" I echoed, my voice rising. "You two accused me of something I didn’t do, and you hit me. How is that small? John, listen carefully. From now on, I don’t have a son like you.”

John’s face hardened.

“You said that yourself,” he stated flatly. “I’ve recorded it and am sending it in the family group chat now."

I saw the triumph flicker in his eyes. He’d come for this: to make me say it so he could cut me off, scared that one day I might expect them to care for me. He had become exactly what I feared.

Sure enough, John sent the recording in the family group chat.

He only included the part where I said, "John, listen carefully. From now on, I have no son like you."

Then he added his own message:

"Uncles, aunts, and great-aunts, today my mom hit Tommy just because she didn’t want to cook the New Year’s Eve dinner. I only complained, and now she’s cutting ties with me. Over the years, Natalie and I have been patient, but I can’t take it anymore. Please be our witnesses. Today, I’m severing my relationship with my mother."

"From now on, she doesn't have to worry whether I live or die. Her life and death have nothing to do with me anymore."

My son sent this message in the family group chat on Daniel's side of the family, which included his brothers, sisters, nieces, and nephews.

John had completely shut down any chance of reconciliation. Not only was he siding with Natalie’s family to push me out, but now he was also trying to get his side of the family to exclude me.

After sending the voice message, John turned to me, his face cold and unreadable.

"I gave you a chance earlier. Now, just leave. I’m not going to see you off. You think I can’t have New Year’s dinner without you? Fine. From now on, don’t bother cooking again."

His words hit me, but oddly, I felt a strange calmness settle in. Maybe it was because I had become numb. I didn’t say a word and just walked toward the door.

As I opened it, I heard my grandson’s voice from the other side.

"Yay! Monster Grandma is finally leaving! Granny Portia, now you can stay here and not have her bother you anymore!"

Natalie, seeing me glance back, scoffed. "What are you looking at? Didn’t John slap you into reality just now? Is Tommy wrong? Old witch, you’re just a nuisance."

I gripped the doorknob tightly and took a deep breath. I had intended to leave quietly, without another word. But in that moment, something inside me hardened.

If John can be so ungrateful, then fine, I will take back everything we have ever given them.

I stepped out of the villa complex. The street was eerily quiet. It was already hard to get a cab here, and on New Year’s Eve, it was even worse.

Nearby, fireworks lit up the sky, but none of them were for me.

For a moment, I missed my husband.

The tears I had stopped earlier started flowing again. He had passed away too soon. I raised our child alone, and I had hoped to relax after retirement, finally. But instead, I found myself pulled back into the role of a free nanny.

Being driven out of their home almost felt like a release.

At least I could finally live for myself.

So what if I was sixty?

The thought steadied me, and the tears stopped.

Unable to get a cab, I had no idea where to go, so I figured I’d find a hotel to stay in for the night.

Just as I took a few steps, several cars pulled up beside me.

My husband's brother, my oldest brother-in-law, my husband's sisters, my sisters-in-law, and even the nieces and nephews all showed up—the whole family was there.

Janet, my sister-in-law, immediately noticed the red handprint on my face, her expression darkening.

“Who hit you?” she demanded.