After my husband died, my dad dragged me by my hair and threw me out of my own home while I was 8 months pregnant. My water broke as my 24-year-old stepmother laughed in my face. I didn’t scream. I made one phone call—and minutes later, they realized they had just lost everything.
Three weeks after my husband, Lucas Gallagher, died in a highway collision outside Syracuse, New York, I was still sleeping with one of his T-shirts folded beneath my pillow. I was eight months pregnant, and grief had made the days blur together into a fog. There was only one thing I knew with absolute certainty, which was that the house… Continue reading After my husband died, my dad dragged me by my hair and threw me out of my own home while I was 8 months pregnant. My water broke as my 24-year-old stepmother laughed in my face. I didn’t scream. I made one phone call—and minutes later, they realized they had just lost everything.