The pull was sudden, vicious, and utterly degrading—not a gentle nudge, not a polite request whispered across the linen tablecloth, but a hard, brutal yank on my left arm that brought me stumbling out of the high-backed dining chair. The sound of silverware clattering against heirloom porcelain was the only immediate disruption to the silence that had fallen over the Thanksgiving table.
It was the sound of my dignity breaking.
