I slowly got out of bed. My legs were shaking, the world was spinning in front of my eyes. But I walked past her without a word. The phone was on the nightstand – I grabbed it and, right in front of her, dialed 911.

— Hello, ambulance? I feel very bad… fever almost 40°C, extreme weakness, sore throat and headache… yes, the address is…

My mother-in-law reacted angrily:
— What are you doing? The guests will be here in an hour!

— You have guests. I have an infection and a fever. And this is my apartment. — For the first time, I said it out loud, calmly and clearly, without my usual apologetic tone.

While I packed my bag, she paced the kitchen, muttering about a “crazy daughter-in-law.” But when the ambulance arrived twenty minutes later, I was ready. The doctor took my temperature, checked my throat, and said:
— We’re going to the hospital. This is serious.

I put on my jacket and, before leaving, looked at her:
— When I come back, you and your guests will be gone. And you will never come in here without my permission again.

She opened her mouth to say something, but I closed the door behind me.