Chapter 2: You Have No Idea What Goes On
PART 2
There were bruises.
Not one.
Not two.
A wide, dark mark spread across her lower back — deep purple at the center, fading to yellow at the edges.
Old enough to have been there for days.
New enough to still be swollen.
My hands were shaking.
"Lily," I said carefully.
"Has this happened before?"
She didn't answer right away.
Then, very quietly: "Sometimes she gets really mad."
I pulled her shirt down gently and sat on the floor beside her.
I didn't trust my legs to hold me up.
I was still sitting there when I heard the front door open.
Footsteps in the hallway.
Confident.
Unhurried.
Then my wife's voice — bright, almost cheerful.
"You're home early."
She stopped when she saw my face.
For just a second, something flickered behind her eyes.
Not guilt.
Not fear.
Calculation.
"What's wrong?" she said.
I stood up slowly.
"I think you already know."
She looked at Lily.
Her expression didn't change — but her jaw tightened.
"She told you something," she said flatly.
"Didn't she."
It wasn't a question.
Lily pressed herself against the wall behind me.
And that one small movement — my daughter hiding behind her father to stay safe from her own mother — told me everything I needed to know.
"Don't," I said quietly.
"Don't say a word to her."
My wife's eyes went cold.
"You have no idea what goes on in this house while you're away."
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What she said next stopped me cold — and changed everything I thought I knew.
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