“No!” he cried, shaking. “I cannot leave. Please do not make me leave. I will stay. I will serve Mr. Vanderbilt and Ms. Cooper. I am loyal. I will work harder. Please do not punish me.”
He bowed his head and pressed his forehead to the ground.
I felt my heart tear open.
My husband watched.
My sister looked away.
And the man who destroyed me smiled like he owned everything I loved.
When I saw Ryle’s face up close, I froze.
He was shaking. Not crying. Not yelling. Just small and quiet, like fear had already hollowed him out.
He was only eight.
Eight fucking years old!
How could a child look like this?
As he kept bowing, his sleeves slid up. I finally saw it. Dark bruises layered over old ones. Thin scars crossing his arms. When he tilted his head, my stomach dropped.
Marks.
Clear marks around his neck. Like a leash.
I rushed forward and grabbed his shoulders. “Ryle, baby, get up. You do not have to kneel! Mama is here.”
The second my hands touched him, he panicked. He slapped himself. Hard. Again and again.
“I was wrong!” he cried, voice fast and flat like he had memorized it. “I deserve punishment. I will go to the cold storage now. Three hours. I will not cry. I promise.”
I felt my soul crack.
Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at David.
I did not say a word.
I demanded an answer with my eyes.
Before he could open his mouth, Roxanne rushed in and pulled Ryle into her arms, hugging him tight like a saint in a painting.
“You misunderstood everything, sister,” she said softly. “Ryle and I play house all the time. Sometimes I am the servant. Sometimes he is. Today was just his turn. He is very imaginative.”
I stared at her.
Then I lifted my hand and pointed at my son’s neck. My finger would not stop shaking.
“This!” I said hoarsely. “This is not imagination. These are marks! These are injuries. You call this a game? Is this how you treat my son?”
Roxanne’s eyes filled with tears.
David’s face darkened. He shoved me back hard enough that I stumbled.
“That's enough!” he snapped. “Do you enjoy humiliating people in public this much? You always loved making scenes! Roxanne is nothing like you. She has no schemes, no poison in her heart.” He pointed at Ryle like he was an object.