Her eyes glistened with tears that fell in rivulets down her flushed cheeks. Her body shook with the force of her emotions, her hands clenched tightly at her sides as if barely holding herself back from striking me again.
The room erupted into chaos.
Relatives, once seated at tables enjoying the celebration, now stood in clusters, their faces a mix of shock, anger and revulsion.
"Has Jimmy lost his mind? That's his own flesh and blood! How could he let his child be mistreated for years without lifting a finger?" one voice spat, filled with disgust.
"You're a monster! He's your son and you just let it happen?" cried another.
"Hana, divorce him right now! A man like that doesn't deserve a family!"
The accusations came fast and unrelenting, each one a hammer blow against my character.
Even Rowan, my frail and quiet son, found his voice. He stood trembling, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Tears streamed down his pale face as he screamed, "I hate you! A man like you is not my father!"
Before anyone could stop him, Rowan spun on his heels and dashed toward the nearby window. His thin frame, so often hunched under the weight of fear and pain, now moved with alarming speed.
"Rowan, no!" Hana shrieked, her voice breaking with desperation.
But it was too late. Rowan threw himself through the open window, the sound of shattering glass cutting through the din like a knife. The collective gasp that followed seemed to suck the air out of the room.
A sickening thud echoed from below.
The hall descended into stunned silence. For a moment, time itself seemed to freeze. Then, chaos erupted. Relatives rushed toward the window, their faces contorted in shock and horror.
Hana stood paralyzed, her body trembling uncontrollably. Then, with a guttural cry that tore through the air, she broke free from her stupor and bolted for the stairs.
I remained where I stood, my face emotionless, my breathing steady despite the turmoil. Slowly, I reached into my pocket, retrieving my phone. With deliberate calm, I dialed the police.
"Hello," I said, my voice low and even. "I'd like to report an incident. My son jumped out of a window in an apparent suicide."
The words hung in the air like a death knell as I ended the call.
***