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"7 Months Pregnant, My Brother Made Me Carry Heavy Groceries Upstairs"

"7 Months Pregnant, My Brother Made Me Carry Heavy Groceries Upstairs" Sweat stung my eyes as I hauled the heavy groceries up the third-floor stairs. Seven months pregnant. Every step felt like punishment. I shoved the apartment door open. Gunfire and explosions blasted from the TV. My brother Tyler lounged on the couch with his friends Cody and Mason. He paused his game and sneered at my swollen belly.“Ugh, you’re disgusting. Lose that weight or I’ll kick you out and find some internet girls to take care of me.”Cody and Mason erupted into laughter. I bit my cheek, forced a cold smile, and dropped the bags. Let them laugh. They had exactly 72 hours left.I shoved the milk into the fridge, knuckles white. Glass bottles clinked against the shelves, masking the muffled chaos in the living room.My name is Jaime. I’m 28. The child kicking inside me isn’t love—it’s evidence. Seven months ago, Tyler dragged me to a supposedly “empty warehouse.” He killed the engine, locked the doors, and handed me over to Cody and Mason to settle his gambling debt.