During the ride to Sylvia’s apartment, I barely remember anything. I just sat in the back seat of the car staring at my daughter’s tiny face, trying to understand how everything had fallen apart so quickly.
Richie and I had been together for six years. We had planned this baby together. He had cried when she was born. He had kissed my forehead and promised we were going to be a family.
And now he had locked us out.
Sylvia opened the door and immediately pulled me inside.
“What happened?” she asked.
“He changed the locks,” I said.
Her face went from confusion to fury in seconds.
“He did WHAT?”
I explained everything.
She grabbed her phone immediately.
“I’m calling a lawyer.”
“Wait,” I said.
“Praise, he locked you out with a newborn! That’s not just cruel — that’s illegal.”
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