On the tenth day of my postpartum recovery, my husband, Deputy Commander Harvey Wyatt, uploads a photo of me breastfeeding my newborn in a disheveled state to the department's group chat. Obviously, that photo was taken without my knowledge.

"See? After having a kid, she's as loose as a sack. It makes me sick just looking at her. I much prefer my side piece, who's nice and tight."

A few female colleagues send sweating emojis to the group. The majority of the chat, however, consists of the male colleagues' perverse silence.

While I continue to burp my baby with one hand, my tears land on the screen.

In order to give birth to this baby, my pelvic bone was sawn in half, which causes me so much pain that I can't even walk properly. But all I get in return is my own husband body-shaming me in front of hundreds of people.

I don't bother arguing with Harvey at all.

Half an hour later, I drag my broken body all the way to the commander's office with a divorce agreement as well as the chat history over the past ten days, which has been printed out, in my hands.

Chief Heath's office door was right in front of me, and through it came Harvey's deliberately lowered laughter.

"Could Winnifred's temper be due to postpartum depression? Harvey, you'll have to be more understanding." As the police chief, Patrick Heath, spoke, his voice carried a tone of perfunctory sympathy.

"Depression? She's just spoiled! I was just joking in the group chat, and she has to make a federal case out of it." Harvey's tone was dripping with disdain, as if the woman he'd publicly humiliated was merely an embarrassment to him.

I looked down. My baby, Munchkin, was sleeping fitfully in my arms with her small brow furrowed.

A searing pain shot up from my pubic symphysis with every step, each one an agony. But instead of retreating, I pushed open the ajar door.

The conversation inside ceased instantly.

The room was hazy with smoke.

Harvey was lounging on the couch, his legs crossed. Across from him, the female officer, Leigh Nicholson—the one who had posted the sweating emoji in the group chat—was peeling an orange.

Seeing me, Leigh paused mid-motion. She didn't get up, but instead leaned a little closer to Harvey.

Harvey's smile vanished. "What are you doing here? This is my workplace. Are you trying to make me a laughingstock by showing up here dressed like that? You think I'm not embarrassed enough?"

I was wearing a loose nursing top. My hair was carelessly pinned up, and there were still mud stains on my cotton slippers. In contrast, Leigh was impeccably made up, her police uniform crisp and neat.

"Honey, I came to bring you something."

Suppressing the tremor in my body, I slapped the printed sheets onto the desk. It was a divorce agreement, along with screenshots of the group chat and voice recordings of him impatiently talking to me from the past ten days.

Chief Heath glanced at them, his expression unchanging as he continued to blow out smoke.

"Winnifred, you're being unreasonable. Harvey is up for a performance review soon. Aren't you just holding him back by stirring up trouble over domestic matters?"

"Domestic matters?" I pointed at the vile captions on the screenshot. "A public official openly disseminating obscene material and verbally abusing a woman in a 300-person work group. Chief Heath, you call this a domestic matter?"

Chief Heath's expression darkened as he stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray.

"Winnifred, don't you go making a mountain out of a molehill!"

Harvey shot up from the couch, grabbing the papers from the desk. Then, he tore them to shreds and flung the pieces over me.

"It was just a photo! You're my wife—what's wrong with me looking at my own wife? We were all just lightening the mood, but you have to be so twisted about it!"

The scraps of paper fluttered down around my feet.

Leigh chuckled and said in a syrupy voice, "Yeah, Winnifred. Harvey just thinks you look radiant with maternal glow when you're breastfeeding. Sure, your stomach hasn't snapped back into shape yet, but everyone understands. So, there's no need to be so sensitive."

Looking at Leigh, I asked calmly, "Maternal glow? Officer Nicholson, since you're such a connoisseur, why don't you take a similar photo and post it in the group so everyone can admire your glow?"

"You're impossible!" Harvey stormed over, jabbing his finger in my face. "Take the baby and get lost! If you dare run your mouth out there and ruin my performance review, I'll make sure you regret it."

"And if I don't leave?" I looked up, meeting his gaze.

"Don't leave?" Harvey snorted, then turned to Chief Heath. "Chief Heath, Winnifred is mentally unstable and making a scene at my workplace. I think we should have security escort her out."

Leaning back in his chair, Chief Heath picked up his coffee mug and blew on it.

"Then we'll handle it according to precinct policy. Also, Winnifred, considering your emotional state, I suggest you see a psychiatrist. Don't let this escalate to a point where it can't be resolved."

Two security guards walked in and roughly reached out to grab me.

I took a step back, avoiding their hands.

Then, I took one last look at the three people who made my skin crawl.

"Fine."

Holding Munchkin tighter, I turned and dragged my aching body out of that smoke-filled room.

The autumn wind stung my face as I walked out of the precinct.

My phone buzzed almost immediately.

It was a text from the bank—my checking account and all the supplementary cards had been frozen.

Then, a text from Harvey popped up.

"Winnifred, since you want to make a scene, let's settle the accounts properly. You've been living off me for years, and now you want a divorce?

"Fine. You'll leave with nothing! I've already had the locks changed. You can cool off on the street until you come crawling back to beg me."

I stared at the message, my fingers numb with cold.

To take care of that home and let him focus on his career, I'd quit my high-paying position as a design director. I'd traded it all to be a housewife.

And now, standing here with nothing, I realized just how hopelessly stupid I'd been.

The cold wind cut through my collar, and Munchkin started fussing in my arms, as if sensing my despair.

I pulled my coat tighter around me, realizing that there was nowhere for me to go in this neighborhood I'd called home for five years.

A few neighbors who'd lived in the area for decades approached me. On ordinary days, they'd smile and praise me for being such a devoted wife. But now, their gazes held nothing but contempt and disgust.

"Look, that's her. I heard she's got postpartum depression and stormed into Chief Heath's office like a lunatic."

"Poor Harvey. How did a nice guy like him end up with a wife like that? Not only does she not appreciate how hard he works, but she also wants to ruin his future."

"Tell me about it. I heard her figure's completely gone since she had the baby, and now she's paranoid on top of it. Harvey's really too kind not to have her committed to a psychiatric ward."

Their whispers were like nails on a chalkboard.

I kept my head down, pretending not to hear, and mechanically walked forward.

As I passed the bulletin board, I saw a big photo of Harvey up there. The words "Top Ten Outstanding Defenders of the Year" blazed red with bitter irony.

In the photo, he looked so upright. But who would guess that underneath that mask of righteousness hid a heart so rotten?

The sky grew darker, and streetlights flickered on.

Dragging my legs that felt as if they were weighted with lead, I finally reached the entrance of our apartment complex.

I swiped my card. The gate alarm beeped, flashing red.

Harvey really had changed everything. Even my access to the compound had been revoked.

Matt Shepard, the security guard, poked his head out of the security booth, a troubled look on his face.

"Winnifred, Deputy Commander Wyatt just specifically instructed that you're not allowed in. He said you're emotionally unstable, and he wants to prevent any incidents."

"Okay, I won't go in," I replied hoarsely. "Matt, could I borrow some hot water to make the baby a bottle?"

Matt was about to nod when Harvey's harsh voice suddenly crackled through the intercom.

"Nobody is allowed to help her! Let her stay out there and think about what she's done! This is what happens when she doesn't follow the rules!"

Startled, Matt quickly pulled his head back in and slammed the window shut with a bang.

I stood outside the locked iron gate, staring at the building that had once been home.

The lights on the 12th floor were on, with two silhouettes snuggling together against the curtains.

So, Leigh had already moved in.

They were enjoying the spoils of victory in their warm room, while I was left homeless on this cold night with Munchkin, who was barely ten days old.

A sharp pain shot through my abdomen as the postpartum bleeding surged again. It was a warm, sticky sensation that made my head spin.

Hungry and cold, Munchkin wailed loudly.

I leaned against the wall beside me and slowly slid down to the ground.

I lifted my top to nurse Munchkin, only to find that my once plentiful milk had completely dried up.

When she got nothing, Munchkin cried even more desperately.

Helplessness consumed me. I stared at my phone, scrolling through the familiar names on my contacts list.

My parents were elderly and poor in health, so I couldn't bring myself to burden them with this now.

My friends were all busy with their own lives and careers. Who would take in a troublesome woman with a newborn at a time like this?

I couldn't accept this. I really couldn't.

I refused to give up. I refused to let them drag me through the mud.

I closed my eyes and dug through my long-dormant blacklist, finding a number I still knew by heart.

It was the person I risked everything to escape from six years ago.

The moment the call connected, I didn't even have the strength to identify the breathing on the other end.

"Spencer, I regret leaving you. Please help me."

There was nothing on the other end of the line but the faint hum of static, a silence so deep that it made my heart race.

A few seconds later, a deep and magnetic voice came through.

"Who is this?"

I sniffled, and the tears finally spilled over.

"Spencer, it's Winnifred. If you don't want to help me, that's okay. I just… I have no other choice."

The call ended abruptly with a click.

In that instant, my last lifeline snapped.

Holding Munchkin, I laughed in despair.

Right. I was the one who insisted on breaking up back then, saying I wanted to pursue a simple life, that I had enough of his kind of luxurious life.

Now that I'd hit rock bottom, why should he care whether I lived or died? I'd brought this on myself, after all.

It had started to rain at some point. The rain, mixed with sleet, stung my face as it fell.

I unbuttoned my coat and wrapped Munchkin tightly against my chest, trying to warm her with my own body heat.

But my body was cold to begin with, so how much warmth could I possibly give her?

A black SUV pulled out of the compound, its high beams blasting directly into my face.

The window rolled down, revealing Leigh's meticulously made-up, smug face. Harvey sat in the driver's seat, his eyes dark and venomous.

"Oh, Winnifred, you're still here? It's freezing out. Don't let the baby catch a cold."

Leigh tittered sweetly as she pulled a 100-dollar note from her purse. Then, she crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the muddy water at my feet.

"Take this and get yourself a cheap hotel room. Stop playing the victim here. It's just pathetic."

Harvey lit a cigarette and blew out a plume of white smoke.

"Winnifred, if you get on your knees right now, admit you were wrong, and promise to keep your mouth shut from now on, I might consider letting you inside to warm up. You are, after all, the mother of my kid."

Looking at them, I felt nothing but revulsion.

"Harvey, Leigh, you'll get what's coming to you."

"Oh, really?" He let out a derisive laugh, then pushed open the door and stepped out. His leather boot landed on the 100-dollar bill, grinding it into the mud.

"In this district, I am the law, the authority! You're just a powerless housewife. What are you going to do to me? Flap that useless mouth of yours?"

He walked up to me and reached out to pinch Munchkin's cheek.

"Don't touch her!" I twisted away sharply, shielding her.

"You ingrate!" Harvey's face contorted with rage as he raised his hand to slap me. "I'm going to teach you what it means to obey your husband, which is something your parents clearly failed to do!"

Clutching Munchkin tightly in my arms, I squeezed my eyes shut as I braced myself for the blow.

Just then, the screech of brakes cut through the air.

Blazing high beams tore through the darkness as six sleek black cars swept in, blocking the compound entrance and surrounding Harvey's SUV.

"I'd like to see who dares to lay a hand on her."