Chapter 2 - A Timeout
I stared at the padlock so long Claire actually looked down at it, like she had forgotten she was holding the damn thing.
“It’s not what it looks like,” she said quickly.
That sentence alone made something cold and ugly slide through my chest.
Emma tightened both arms around my neck. “Don’t let her touch me.”
Claire’s face changed for a second. The softness vanished. What flashed underneath it was sharp, irritated, almost offended.
“Emma,” she said, voice clipped, “that is not what happened.”
I stepped back instinctively, keeping my body between them.
“No,” I said. “You don’t get to talk right now.”
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“You locked my seven-year-old daughter in a wooden box in ninety-degree heat.”
“She threw a fit,” Claire snapped. “She kicked me, Ethan. I was trying to calm her down.”
“She’s seven.”
“She’s manipulative.”
That word hit me like a slap.
Emma buried her face in my shoulder. I carried her inside, every nerve in my body stretched tight. Claire followed, heels tapping across the tile.
“Don’t do this,” she said. “You’re making it bigger than it is.”
I set Emma on a barstool in the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, and knelt in front of her. Her small wrists were pink and raw. Her breathing was still too fast.
“Baby, look at me,” I said gently. “Did she lock you in there?”
Emma nodded once.
Claire laughed under her breath, a stunned little laugh like we were embarrassing her. “Oh, come on. She’s upset. She doesn’t understand—”
“Why?” I asked Emma.
My daughter swallowed hard. Her eyes were glassy with tears.
“Because I said I missed Mommy.”
The room went silent.
Claire folded her arms. “That is not the full story.”
Emma’s mouth trembled. “She said I was making you sad. She said if I kept acting like a baby, you’d stop loving me too.”
Something inside me snapped so cleanly it almost felt calm.
I stood up slowly.
“Get your keys,” I said.
Claire blinked. “Why?”
“Because I’m taking Emma to urgent care.”
“She’s fine.”
I looked at her so hard she actually took a step back.
“No,” I said. “And if you follow us, you better decide right now whether you’re going to tell the truth.”
Emma whimpered again and grabbed my shirt.
May you like
When I lifted her from the stool, I noticed red marks higher up on her arm.
Finger marks.
