The man sneers. “‘Mommy’ this, ‘Mommy’ that. Did I sire a f*****g daughter? Are you going to start wearing skirts now, boy?”
“Leave him alone. He’s done nothing wrong.”
“No, you’re right. You have.”
Another slap, this time across the other cheek. The woman’s head snaps to the side.
“STOP!” the boy screams, his face tear-streaked now. “STOP HURTING HER!”
“So weak,” the man spits in disgust. “Look at you. You’re no son of mine.”
Staggering, the woman sets her child down.
“Honey,” she whispers, trying to keep her voice steady, “can you go play in your room for me?”
“You have to.” The boy stomps again, but the mother reaches out to soothe him. She strokes his hair, slow and sweet, and that finally seems to work. “Trust your mommy, okay? I won’t be long. I’ll join you.”
“Please.” Her e
