Chapter 2

2

My mother was already weak from the previous beating.

Caleb's grip made it nearly impossible for her to breathe.

Her face slowly turned a ghostly pale.

But Caleb was like a rabid dog; he had no intention of stopping.

Seeing her agony, I frantically tried to knock things over in the room.

I hoped to make even a tiny sound to distract him.

But I only saw my ghostly form pass through the furniture in silence.

Despair washed over me.

I hated myself for loving the wrong man and bringing this nightmare upon my family.

"Let go of her! I'll tell you about Ava!"

With a roar, the door was kicked open.

It was my father.

Caleb turned and looked at my panting father with total contempt.

"Oh, look, the whole family is here. How did the great Professor Sterling fall so low? It seems my man did a good job making your life hell. But the fact that you're still standing is a failure on my part."

Caleb's words pulled my attention to my father.

I hadn't seen him in three years, and I barely recognized him.

The once dignified and clean professor was now wearing patched clothes.

He was carrying a bag of recyclables he had clearly scavenged from the streets.

My father used to say that a teacher must be clean inside and out.

To see such a proud man reduced to this broke my heart.

I could only imagine what Caleb had done to him over the years.

My hatred for Caleb burned hotter, but my father didn't look broken.

He straightened his ragged clothes, set down the bag of trash, and faced Caleb.

"If you have a problem, take it out on me. Ava's mother knows nothing. Torturing her is useless."

Caleb looked momentarily surprised by his defiance, but the scorn returned quickly.

"Fine. Then you tell me. When is your precious daughter coming home? Her phone just rang in this house, so don't even try to lie to me! Or else..."

"Ava isn't coming back."

Before Caleb could finish his threat, my father cut him off.

Caleb let out a soft, mocking laugh.

"You ask me to let the old lady go, and then you give me this bullshit? Not coming back? Why? Did she die out there somewhere?"

Caleb began walking toward my mother again as he spoke.

Panic flared in my father's eyes.

He screamed at Caleb's back.

"Yes! She's dead! She's been dead for three years!"

Caleb stopped in his tracks and turned around, laughing hysterically.

"Dead? A plague like her would live forever! You're wasting my time with such a pathetic excuse? I guess I haven't been hard enough on you!"

He swung the whip again, lashing it across my mother's body.

My father screamed and tried to run to her.

But Caleb's thugs grabbed him and pinned him to the spot.

I watched as my mother's thin clothes were shredded by the whip, followed by her skin.

Caleb didn't stop.

My father struggled wildly to protect her, but he was met with the thugs' fists and boots.

I don't know how long the beating lasted.

All I knew was that my mother's clothes were ruined, and her flesh was torn.

She lay on the floor like a discarded rag.

One of Caleb's men stepped forward and checked her pulse.

He looked at Caleb with a cold, indifferent face.

"She's stopped breathing."

My father let out a gut-wrenching scream, calling him a "Monster!"

He crawled desperately to my mother's side.

This was the first time I had ever seen my father cry.

It was the first time I heard him use such language.

Caleb stood frozen for a few seconds, then calmly went to wash his hands.

My father's eyes were bloodshot as he stared at Caleb.

"This is murder! I'm calling the police! You'll pay with your life!"

Caleb pulled a tissue from the table and wiped his hands.

He tossed the crumpled tissue onto my mother's body.

"Go ahead. Call them. But if I go to jail, your precious granddaughter won't live to see another day."