PART 1

I pounded on the glass until my hands went numb, begging her to let me in. By the time someone finally opened the door, I was lying unconscious on the floor. But what the doctors revealed afterward left the whole family horrified. The pregnant daughter-in-law was locked out on the balcony by her sister-in-law in the cold weather, and by the time the door was opened, she had already fainted.

I was twenty-eight weeks pregnant when my sister-in-law locked me out on the balcony and left me there in the cold.

Her name was Paola, and from the day I married her brother, she acted like I had stolen something from her. She criticized everything—my cooking, my clothes, the way I spoke, even the way I laughed. When I got pregnant, it only got worse. She said I was “lazy,” “dramatic,” and “milking” every symptom for attention. My husband, Alejandro, knew she had a sharp tongue, but he kept telling me to ignore her because “that’s just how Paola is.”

That Thanksgiving weekend, Alejandro’s family came to our apartment for dinner because Doña Victoria’s kitchen was being renovated. I had spent all day cooking even though my back hurt and my feet were swollen. Paola arrived late, looked around at everything I’d done, and smirked.

“Wow,” she said, dropping her purse on the counter. “You actually managed to stand long enough to make a meal. That’s impressive.”

I tried to brush it off, but I was already exhausted. After dinner, while Alejandro and his father took trash bags down to the dumpsters, Paola followed me into the kitchen while I was stacking plates.

“You missed a spot,” she said, pointing at the stove.

“I’ll get it,” I answered quietly.

She crossed her arms. “You know, women in this family don’t act helpless every time they get pregnant.”

I turned to face her. “I’m not acting helpless. I’m tired.”

Paola laughed under her breath. “Tired? You’ve been using that excuse for months.”

I didn’t want a fight, so I picked up a tray and stepped onto the balcony to get the extra soda bottles we had chilled outside in the cold. The second I crossed the threshold, the sliding door slammed shut behind me.

Then I heard the click.

At first, I thought it was an accident. I tugged the handle. It wouldn’t move. Paola stood on the other side of the glass, arms folded, watching me.

“Paola!” I shouted. “Open the door!”

She leaned closer and said through the glass, “Maybe a little discomfort will teach you to stop being so weak.”

I felt my stomach drop. “Are you insane? I’m pregnant!”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s just a few minutes.”

The air was bitter, cutting through my thin sweater immediately. I started banging on the glass. “Open it now!”

But Paola just walked away.

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The wind hit harder. My fingers went numb first, then my feet. I kept pounding, shouting, crying for Alejandro, but music was playing inside and dishes were clattering. Minutes stretched so long they felt unreal. My belly tightened painfully, and fear started clawing up my throat.