To steal my unborn baby, my mother-in-law cornered me with a forged notice of my husband’s death. “You have no one left to protect you,” she sneered, forcing custody papers into my hand. But as I backed away, the front door burst open, and a voice she never expected to hear shouted…
stammered, the iron lowering slightly. “You… you aren’t due back for three months.”
Arthur ignored her. He walked deliberately across the kitchen, stepping between me and the hot iron, turning his back to his mother to shield me completely. He placed his rough, calloused hands on my face, his thumbs gently wiping away my tears.
