She saved everything to a flash drive and the cloud.
Three nights before I came home, Marcus used the emergency key Richard had once given him and entered our house.
“He wanted the drive.”
Sophia told him to leave.
He refused.
The argument escalated.
When she tried to call police, he grabbed her phone.
She fought to get it back.
He shoved her.
She hit the dining chair.
After that, her memories came in fragments.
The kitchen.
The floor.
Marcus shouting that she was destroying the family.
A kick.
Another fall.
Then Richard’s voice.
I held her hand.
“Your father was there during the attack?”
“No.”
She swallowed.
“He came after.”
“How long after?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he do?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“He looked at me.”
She stopped.
I waited.
“He looked at me, Ethan, and then he looked at Marcus.”
Her voice broke.
“And he asked Marcus what he had done.”
I felt rage crawl up my chest.
“What happened next?”
“Dad said we couldn’t call police yet.”
I went completely still.
Sophia closed her eyes.
“He said we had to think.”
“While you were hurt?”
She nodded.
“He kept saying, ‘Give me five minutes.’”
Five minutes.
Then ten.
Then more.
According to Samuel’s timeline, almost twenty minutes passed before his 911 call forced the situation to move.
I wanted to find Richard.
Sophia squeezed my hand.
“Don’t.”
