Part 4 — My Husband Punished My Eight-Year-Old Daughter Because of an Expensive Dress, But His Smile Lost Its Color at My Calm Answer

As soon as I read this message, the phone almost fell from my hand.

“What did they write?” Alexander asked.

He was already standing beside me. For the first time in nine years, I was looking my older brother in the eyes. His hair had become whiter, and his face had the calmness that never leaves the faces of dangerous people.

I handed him the phone.

He read it and his jaw tightened.

“Move the child to a secure room,” he said.

“I am not going anywhere without Mom,” Lily said quietly.

“Your mother will be with you too,” Alexander answered.

Julian took one step forward.

“Elena, this is nonsense. Serena made something up. I was just angry.”

“You were angry and you beat a child.”

“She is my daughter!”

“That is exactly why you should have protected her.”

The police chief put handcuffs on him. Julian was still trying to speak loudly, as if he could regain control through the volume of his voice.

“My lawyer will not allow this!”

His lawyer stood at the door and was looking at his phone.

“Mr. Hales,” he said, “I no longer represent you.”

Julian looked toward him.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that the documents signed by you are already in the hands of the investigation. Including the contract by which you transferred my company’s money to Serena.”

Serena immediately turned to Alexander.

“I was only doing what Julian asked me to do.”

“You both had enough time to stop,” he answered. “Now it is time for consequences.”

The police took Serena away. Julian, meanwhile, was brought down the stairs. He stopped in the foyer when the device attached to the wall played his voice.

“Thirty blows are too few.”

His own voice.

Loudly. Clearly. In front of everyone.

Julian raised his head. For the first time, he saw himself not as the owner of the house, but as the man who had said these words.

“Turn it off!” he shouted.

The recording continued.

“Ten thousand dollars must be in my account tomorrow morning.”

Lily sat in my lap with her hands over her ears. Alexander turned off the device.

“Enough,” he said.

Julian was taken away.

For the first time, silence came to the house without fear.

The next morning I entered Lily’s room. The bed was empty. Her cotton rabbit lay on the floor, one ear wrapped, but a small bloodstain was still visible.

I picked it up and pressed it to my chest.

It was the only thing that absolutely had to be taken out of the house that night.

Everything else remained with Julian — the walls, the chandeliers, the expensive furniture, and the rooms full of his lies.

We moved into a small house on the other side of the city. There were not five bedrooms there. The kitchen window looked at the tulips in the yard, and the smell of the neighbor’s bread came in the morning.

In the first weeks, Lily woke up at every noise.

One night she asked me:

“Mom, will someone get angry again now?”

I sat down beside her bed.

“Someone may get angry. But no one will be able to hit you anymore.”

“Because my uncles protect us?”

“Because I will no longer hide the truth.”

She looked at me for a long time.

“Then you are strong?”

It was difficult for me to answer this question.

“I became strong when I decided to protect you.”

Three months later, I testified in court. Julian admitted his guilt in order to reduce his sentence. Serena also admitted that she had cut the dress herself and had prepared a plan to kidnap Lily. She wanted to pressure me and get money from my family.

My brothers’ power did not touch the case. Everything was proven by recordings, the doctor’s report, and bank documents.

Alexander sold the company and gave part of the received money to a child-protection fund. My second brother offered me protection, but I refused.

“I do not want an armed person at every door anymore,” I told him.

“Are you sure?”

“For the first time in my life, I am.”

Six months later, I began working in a small pastry shop. Every morning I was met by the smell of cinnamon and warm dough. When Lily returned from school, she came to me and drew by the window.

One day she drew our new house. There was a big sun on the roof, and five small figures stood by the door.

“Are these your uncles?” I asked.

“Yes. But you are at the very front.”

“Why?”

“Because you came to me first.”

That same evening I received a letter from Julian. It was short.

“Elena, please listen to me at least once. Everything happened because of you. We can start over.”

I put the letter on the kitchen table.

Lily asked me:

“Will you write him an answer?”

“No.”

“You didn’t get angry?”

“No. I simply am no longer going to save him at the cost of my peace.”

I tore the letter and put it in the trash bin.

On the first morning of winter, there was snow on the windowsill. Lily was getting ready for school, while I was straightening the wrapped ear of her cotton rabbit. The scar was still visible, but it no longer hurt me.

I returned the sewing case to the top shelf of the cabinet. I no longer hid the phone inside it. It was empty, and for the first time I no longer needed it.

Lily put on her coat and stopped at the door.

“Mom, when I come home today, will you still be here?”

“Always.”

She smiled at me and went outside.

I remained by the window, holding her small cotton rabbit in my hands.

This time there was no blood on its ear.

Only a new stitch.

And that was enough.