Ella
The woman’s shove sent Hailee crashing into a stack of plastic crates. The sharp clatter echoed through the kitchen, cutting through the hiss of steam and the clang of pans.
For half a second, everything inside me went very, very still.
Then something cold and precise snapped into place.
I stepped forward before I even realized I was moving.
“Pick. Her. Up.”
My voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.
The woman blinked, clearly not expecting resistance. She’d strutted in here expecting tears, maybe begging. Not this.
Hailee groaned softly, trying to sit up. I crouched immediately, helping her to her feet, my hand steady against her elbow.
“Are you hurt?” I asked quietly.
“I’m fine,” she muttered, though her cheeks were flushed with humiliation more than pain.
I turned back to
