“Daddy… Mommy’s boyfriend hit me with a baseball bat. He said if I cry, it’ll hurt more…”

Motion.

“I’ve got it,” Marcus said, breathing more heavily now. “Let’s go outside.”

I felt my shoulders drop slightly, as if some of the weight had shifted, but not disappeared.

“Don’t go,” Kyle shouted from the back, his voice distorted by the distance. “This isn’t over.”

That phrase hung in the air, like an awkward promise.

Marcus did not respond.

He just walked.

The sound of gravel under their footsteps returned, clearer now, closer to something certain.

“We’re outside,” he said.

Ethan was breathing in short gasps, but he was no longer crying.

That small, almost imperceptible change hit me harder than anything else.

Because it meant there was still time.

But it also meant that something had already changed forever.

“I’m almost there,” I said, finally turning onto my street. “Don’t move.”

The houses appeared one by one, familiar, calm, as if they didn’t know what had just happened inside one of them.

I saw Marcus’s truck first.

Then, two figures.

One large, firm one.
The other small, curled up against her chest.

And behind it, the front door was open.

Dark.

Silent.

As if it were keeping something that had not yet finished revealing itself.

I parked without turning off the engine, leaving the door open as I ran towards them, the sound of distant traffic mingling with my own breathing.

Ethan was clinging to Marcus’s neck, his small body stiff, as if he still didn’t believe he was truly safe.

“Dad…” she murmured when she saw me, her eyes swollen and shining with a mixture of fear and relief.

I took it carefully, feeling it shudder as soon as I touched it, and that tiny gesture pierced me more than any words.

“I’m here now,” I whispered, pulling him close to my chest. “It’s over now.”

But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true.