Her face twisted with rage.
“That useless woman has completely turned you against your own mother,” she shrieked.
Then everything happened at once.
My mother grabbed a heavy pot filled with hot meat broth and hurled it toward Jessica.
I stepped between them.
The liquid splashed across my right shoulder, chest, and neck.
Jessica screamed.
The room went completely silent.
The pot hit the floor.
I looked directly at my mother.
For the first time, I wasn’t seeing the woman who had raised me.
I was seeing someone capable of hurting my wife and daughter without hesitation.
“Get out,” I ordered sternly, “all of you leave immediately.”
The guests began grabbing their coats and purses.
Within minutes, the apartment was nearly empty.
Carmen started sobbing dramatically, pounding her chest and insisting I was a horrible son.
I ignored her and called 911.
When paramedics and two police officers arrived, Jessica was still trembling.
