Part 4 — On My Birthday, My Husband Smashed My Head Against the Aquarium Glass, but the Child Pointed at Him and His Smile Disappeared

Luka answered the call.

For several seconds he listened in silence.

Then he lost all color.

“Hana, listen to me…”

For the first time there was no command in his voice.

Only fear.

I stood beside him and watched him try to return to his old methods. First he begged her. Then he threatened her. Then he begged her again.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said. “They are using the child against me.”

The woman’s voice from the other side of the phone was so quiet that I could not make out the words.

But Luka’s face said everything.

“No, Hana. Don’t do this.”

He looked toward me.

“Elene, tell her that this is a misunderstanding.”

I said nothing.

“Tell her that I was protecting you.”

“You smashed my head against the glass,” I said calmly. “That was not protection.”

Police officers appeared at the door of the living room. Behind them stood two people, one holding a folder and the other a small bag.

Hana.

Four years had passed, but I recognized her immediately.

Her hair was shorter, tiredness could be seen on her face, yet her eyes were still the same — my eyes, which in childhood had looked at the same window.

When the girl saw her mother, she released my hand and ran toward her.

“Mother!”

Hana knelt and embraced her as if with this hug she were bringing back the lost years.

I froze in place.

Hana raised her head.

“Forgive me.”

That word was heavier for me than all of Luka’s lies.

“I should ask you for forgiveness,” I answered.

“No. You believed a person you trusted.”

“But I did not believe you.”

Hana’s eyes lit up.

“Because he was separating both of us from each other.”

Luka was backing away.

“This is a family matter. There is no place for the police here.”

A police officer stepped in front of him.

“Hands on the wall.”

“Irakli, tell them!”

The lawyer lowered his head.

“I have already told the investigator everything.”

Luka turned toward him.

“You are my lawyer!”

“I was,” Irakli said. “After I learned that you used my signature on documents hidden from the court, I am no longer.”

They put handcuffs on Luka.

From his mouth came again the phrase that for years had closed everything for me.

“Elene, all of this is happening because of you.”

The police officer turned on the recording.

Luka’s own voice sounded in the room.

“Elene will never believe you. She needs me.”

He fell silent.

Hearing his own words seemed to happen to him for the first time. He lowered his eyes. He could say nothing.

And I realized that I was no longer afraid.

The police took him away. Hana and the child stayed with me. The girl was still looking for that red paper star.

“It got lost,” I said.

“We will find it,” Hana answered.

But we did not find it that night.

A large birthday photograph of Luka hung on the wall beside the aquarium. Everyone was smiling. In the photograph his hand rested on my shoulder, while I was looking toward the camera and thinking that I was happy.

In the morning I took down the photograph.

I cut out my face.

I put the rest into the trash bin.

Then I went upstairs, to our bedroom. The wardrobe was open. Luka’s clothes were still there, but the room already looked empty. On his side of the bed only the clock remained, its hands stopped at 11:47 — exactly the minute when he smashed my head against the glass.

In three weeks the court issued a temporary protective order. Hana and I went together to meetings where investigators repeated the same questions to us.

Hana told me everything.

For years Luka had threatened her that if she told me the truth, he would take the child away. He falsified her medical records, told relatives that Hana was emotionally unstable, and then raised the girl far from me.

Hana managed to escape only when Marina found copies of the old folder.

By that time Luka had already realized that he was losing control.

That was why he held the party.

He thought that in front of the important guests, the cameras, and his influence, I would become silent again.

But the child destroyed his plan.

Two months later we moved to a small town, not very far from the sea. Hana began working in a library. And I attended photography courses and, for the first time, took only what I myself chose.

The girl’s name was Nia.

Every morning she sat by the kitchen window, ate milk porridge, and drew sharks on sheets of paper.

One morning she asked me:

“Will he not find us now?”

“No,” I told her.

“Are you sure?”

I sat down in front of her.

“This time we know where we are going.”

Nia was silent for a while, then held out her drawing to me. Among the sharks was a little girl holding a red star in her hand.

“This is you,” she told me.

“Me?”

“Yes. You were standing by the glass, but you came outside.”

Six months later I received a letter from Luka. The lawyer was asking me to go to a meeting with him. The letter said that he had changed, that he regretted it, that he only wanted to hear my voice.

Hana read the letter and put it on the table.

“Do you want to answer?”

The first snow was falling outside the window.

“Yes.”

On the back of the sheet I wrote only one sentence.

“I will no longer try to survive the consequences of you.”

Then I put the letter into an envelope and sent it back.

Nia entered the room that evening. She held a small red paper star in her hand. It was new, with folded corners, but this time it was not broken.

“I made this for you,” she said.

I placed the star on the bookshelf, where the morning light fell first.

The glass was no longer between me and freedom.