“What would you rather have me do? Should I serve opium? Serve food? Serve myself? What else do you think I’m qualified for?

I could serve my husband. Hope he doesn’t drink or smoke or gamble or beat me. Have four babies before I’m twenty-five and say I’m blessed if two live to adulthood. Bury the rest from starvation or miscarriage, illness or injury, or my heaven-blessed husband shaking one too hard when he gets home late and they won’t stop crying. You think that’s the better choice?”