But Vanessa’s voice cracked like thunder.
“Lily! Apologize to your cousin right now!”
“She didn’t do anything wrong!” I said, stepping in.
My mother snapped, “Don’t you dare raise your voice in my house.”
And then he appeared. My father — beer in hand, eyes cold.
“She needs to learn manners,” he barked.
“She’s five!” I cried. “She doesn’t need—”
I lunged forward, but my mother gripped my wrists. Vanessa shoved me back.
My father’s belt unbuckled with a metallic hiss that still haunts my dreams.
“Your trashy little thing needs to learn manners,” he spat, and brought it down across her back.
The sound — the crack — silenced everything.
Lily screamed. Curled into herself.
Strike after strike. I kicked, bit, clawed — but my mother held me fast.
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