“There were bruises on her arms that looked exactly like fingerprints,” Eleanor whispered to me in the kitchen, her voice shaking with rage.
When I confronted Evelyn, she completely broke down. Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded, “Dad, please don’t. If I leave him, his uncle’s people will come after you and Mom. He promised me they would.”
I pulled my frightened little girl close, forcing myself to swallow the fury rising inside me. “I’ll take care of it.”
Then one phone call changed everything. It was Eleanor, calling directly from the hospital.
“She’s in the ER. She has several broken ribs and a severe concussion. She keeps telling the doctors she fell down the stairs.”
I didn’t head to the hospital. I went straight to his gym.
The place smelled like stale sweat, cold steel, and the kind of arrogance that comes from believing nobody can touch you. Dustin was inside the cage, laughing with his coach and several of his toughest sparring partners.
