Chapter 7
Three days later.
The DA's office called.
They were pressing charges.
Assault on a minor.
Bethany would be arrested.
I felt a mix of emotions.
Relief.
Fear.
Sadness.
Relief that the system was working.
Fear of what my family would do next.
Sadness that it had come to this.
That my own sister would hurt my child.
That my own parents would defend her.
Sarah held me while I processed it.
She didn't say anything.
She just held me.
That evening, there was a knock on the door.
My heart stopped.
I looked through the peephole.
It was my father.
He was alone.
He looked angry.
I stepped back from the door.
Sarah saw my face.
"Who is it?"
"My father," I said.
Sarah's hand went to her phone.
"Should I call the police?"
I thought about it.
I wanted to.
But I also wanted to hear what he had to say.
To say it to his face.
"Give me a minute," I said.
I opened the door.
Just a crack.
The chain was still on.
My father's eyes burned into mine.
"Let me in," he said.
"No," I said.
He took a breath.
I could smell alcohol on his breath.
"You need to drop these charges," he said.
"No," I said again.
"You're destroying this family," he said. His voice rose. "Your sister could go to jail!"
"She deserves to go to jail!" I shouted back. "She hurt a child! My child!"
"She made a mistake!" he said.
"A mistake?" I laughed. A bitter, angry sound. "Grabbing a four-year-old so hard you leave bruises? Slapping her face? That's not a mistake. That's abuse."
"She was being difficult!" my father said. "She needed discipline!"
I felt my temper rise.
"Get off my property," I said. "Before I call the police."
My father's face turned red.
"You ungrateful little bastard," he said. "After everything we did for you! We gave you life! We gave you everything!"
"You gave me nothing," I said. "Nothing but pain and disappointment. And now you've hurt my daughter. So we're done. All of us. Get out and never come back."
I slammed the door.
I locked it.
I put the chain on.
I leaned against the door.
My heart was hammering.
Sarah came over to me.
She put her arms around me.
"He's gone," she said.
I nodded.
But I knew he wouldn't stay gone.
None of them would.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
I thought about my childhood.
About the way my father had looked at me.
Like I was a disappointment.
Like I was never good enough.
About the way my mother had favored Bethany.
Always.
No matter what Bethany did.
She could do no wrong.
And I could do no right.
I thought about Rosie.
About how I would never treat her that way.
How I would always love her.
Always protect her.
No matter what.
I felt a weight on my chest.
I looked down.
Rosie was standing beside the couch.
Her stuffed rabbit was in her hand.
Her eyes were sleepy.
"Daddy?"
"Hey, baby," I said. "What's wrong?"
"Can I sleep with you?" she asked.
I lifted the blanket.
"Come here."
She climbed onto the couch and curled up beside me.
She rested her head on my chest.
I wrapped my arms around her.
"I love you, Daddy," she whispered.
"I love you too, baby," I said. "More than anything."
She fell asleep quickly.
I lay there, holding her.
Protecting her.
And I made a promise to myself.
No matter what my family did.
No matter how hard they fought.
May you like
I would win.
For her.
