I brushed off every cruel comment and convinced myself not to take it personally. Looking back, I should’ve known there would come a day when I’d finally reached my limit.
Five a.m. glowed blue on the nursery clock, and Onica was finally quiet against my shoulder. I rocked in the same worn chair where I’d fed Bradley three years earlier. My phone’s alarm would tell me to start pumping before my shower.
A little voice floated in from the hallway.
