Not congratulations.
Not flowers.
A request for a court evaluation of my mental condition.
That was when I cried.
Not because of the lawsuit.
But because I realized my children no longer saw me as their mother.
They saw a key to an inheritance.
In the courtroom, Silvia finally spoke.
“This isn’t fair.”
I looked at her.
“What isn’t fair?”
“You did everything in secret. You didn’t tell us about Todor. You didn’t tell us about the procedure. One day you simply told us there was going to be a baby.”
“Because I knew how you would react.”
“How could you know?”
“Because I know my children.”
She swallowed.
“I was afraid for you.”
“Maybe at first.”
“And I’m still afraid!”
“Of what?”
She looked at Emilia.
“That you won’t be able to do it. That you’ll get sick. That you’ll die. That this girl will be left without a mother.”
