“Great work, Dad,” Vanessa said. “Now she won’t disobey my kids.”
My father dropped the belt like it meant nothing. My mother whispered, “Pick her up and get out. Don’t ever come back.”
Her voice was ice.
I scooped Lily into my arms. She was breathing — faintly. Her small fingers twitched.
I didn’t look back.
We reached St. Mary’s Hospital in record time. The ER lights blurred with my tears.
The doctor’s expression hardened.
“I’m mandated to report suspected child abuse,” he said quietly.
“This isn’t suspected,” I whispered. “It’s proof.”
He nodded, and within minutes, the police arrived.
When they asked for evidence, I remembered something — Derek, Vanessa’s husband, had been filming. He always filmed everything, showing off the family’s “perfect life” online.
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