I had just given birth when my husband looked me in the eye and said, “Take the bus home. I’m taking my family to hotpot.” Two hours later, his voice was shaking on the phone: “Claire… what did you do? Everything is gone.”

Then Daniel looked straight at me and said, “Take the bus home tomorrow. I’m taking my family out for hotpot.”

For a moment, the room went completely still—except for my baby’s soft, uneven breathing against my chest.

I thought I had heard him wrong.

“What?” My voice came out weak.

His mother, Elaine, adjusted her bracelet and sighed, as if I were the problem. “Claire, don’t create a scene.

You’ll be discharged in the morning. The bus stop is right outside.”

“I gave birth six hours ago,” I whispered.

Daniel shrugged. “My parents are here.

We already booked dinner. You don’t expect us to cancel just because you’re tired, do you?”

His sister Melissa laughed. “Women give birth every day.”