Eight months pregnant, I was cleaning when I brushed past my mother-in-law. She cursed me, slapped me, and dumped filthy mop water. I slipped, fell, my water broke—the instant I knew everything would change.

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My name is Laura Méndez, and when everything changed, I was eight months pregnant.

We lived in a quiet residential neighborhood in Valencia, in a house that had belonged to my husband’s family for years. My husband, Javier Méndez, worked long hours as a construction foreman, leaving before sunrise and returning late at night. During the day, I was usually at home with his mother, Carmen Méndez.Continue reading…

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