I ignored the pain in my hand, scrambling to gather the precious bone dust, my tears blurring the floor.
Staggering to my feet, I headed for the door, my forehead and hands dripping blood that pattered onto the tiles.
Anthony’s face softened with a flicker of guilt, and he took an involuntary step toward me—but Vanessa clung to his arm with teary eyes.
"Anthony, are you feeling sorry for her? You didn’t see what happened earlier. She slapped me over and over with that same hand. I only stepped on her once. I was already being merciful."
“If we don’t teach her a lesson now, she’ll keep bullying me and my son in the future. You’re the one who promised to protect us—was that a lie?”
...
By the time I had burned every belonging of mine and my daughter’s, and stepped out of the house once again, Anthony still hadn’t shown his face.
Upstairs, the sound of laughter rang out, light and carefree. How warm... how harmonious.
I handed the divorce papers to the security guard, asking him to deliver them on my behalf, then walked out of the gates.
A Rolls-Royce Phantom that had been waiting for me honked softly. I knew then—the person who would help me seek justice for my daughter had arrived.
