Mom froze at my words. After a moment, she moved toward Zain.

Gently, she pulled aside the torn fabric on his back.

At first, Mom looked confused — as if she still hoped what I said could be wrong.

But the moment she truly saw Zain’s back, her face hardened.

She turned to the tutor.

“What is going on?” Mom asked.

He stiffened. The confidence he wore moments ago cracked, replaced by visible nervousness. 

His eyes darted around as if searching for an excuse — any excuse — that might save him.

“I… I made a mistake,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to use that much force—”

“Don’t lie,” I said coldly. “You’ve been abusing Zain for a long time. You just hide behind ‘teaching methods’ every time.”

This time, I wouldn’t let him twist the situation. I wouldn’t let this chance slip.

Before he could respond, I stepped forward.

“Mom, I’ve told you this before,” I said, my voice shaking despite my effort to stay calm. 

“You’ve seen the bruises on his body, but no one listened. And now he’s beating Zain until he bleeds. If this continues… who knows what he’ll do next?”

His face flushed with rage. His hands trembled as he clenched his fists.

“Y-you— No, ma’am, it’s not like that,” he said quickly.

If Mom hadn’t been there, I knew he wouldn’t have hesitated to strike me too.

“That’s enough,” Mom said.

Both of us turned toward her.

The tutor straightened, a thin, unsettling smile creeping onto his lips — slow, confident, almost relieved.

He was sure she would side with him — just like before.

I felt Vivi shift behind me, her fingers clutching my sleeve as she took a step back.

I watched Mom silently.

Please, Mom. Don’t make the wrong decision.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for my children,” Mom said evenly. 

“But you won’t be teaching them anymore.”

For the first time, his composure was shattered.

He stared at her in disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend what he had just heard. 

He had always managed to manipulate my parents — always.

“Ma’am, please wait—” he began.

“I’ll have my husband settle your tuition for this month,” Mom interrupted coldly.

There was nothing more to argue.

For a brief moment, the room fell silent. The tutor’s breath hitched, the confidence draining from his face.

Without raising her voice, Mom lifted her hand and pointed toward the door.

The tutor said nothing more. As he left, he shot me a furious glare — sharp, venomous.

But I didn’t care.

Mom had listened.

For the first time, she had chosen us.

Relief washed over me. I turned toward Zain, already thinking about cleaning his wounds and applying ointment.

For the first time that day, something tight in my chest loosened.

Maybe… just maybe… things would be different now.

Slap...

The sound echoed through the room.

I staggered, stunned.

My head snapped toward Mom. My cheek burned as I stared at her in disbelief.

“Why did you—”

I stopped.

The anger in her eyes froze me in place. It wasn't a concern. It wasn't a relief.

It was raw, unrestrained anger — sharp enough to make my stomach drop.

“What you did today was unacceptable,” she said.

“What?” I whispered.

“You argued with an adult and used foul language. How do you think you’ll explain this to your father when he comes home?”

For a moment, her words didn’t make sense to me. 

I had just protected them — wasn’t that what mattered?

“But he was the one at fault—”

“You just need to tell us everything,” she cut in sharply, not letting me finish.

Something inside me cracked — quietly, painfully.

“I did tell you,” I said, my voice trembling with restrained anger. “I told you before, but you never listened. You never—”

“ENOUGH,” she said. 

“Finish your assignments or come eat dinner. Choose.”

She took Vivi and Zain and left the room without another glance.

“Ha…Ha…”

I let out a hollow laugh.

How foolish of me.

Bit by bit, the fragile hope I had allowed myself was shattered. 

My thoughts went distant, hollow — whatever I was trying to protect was slowly going numb.

{Bi…an…}

A sudden sound snapped me back.

I pulled myself together quickly, gathering the broken pieces before reality could hurt me any further.

For a moment, I had forgotten what kind of household I lived in.

Here, my voice never mattered. My concerns never held weight. If they had listened — even once — none of this would have happened.

Mom told Dad everything when he returned.

He didn’t scold me outright, but his silence spoke louder than words. His displeasure was unmistakable.

Even during dinner, I clung to a fragile hope that maybe — just maybe — they would understand.

At least I had protected Vivi and Zain.

That should have been enough. 

I wished — just for this one day — they would let me keep this small happiness.

But the moment I entered my room, fear wrapped itself around me.

Dad was there.

He stood by the window, his silhouette dark against the glass.

The moment I saw him, my body reacted — my breath caught, my hands went cold, and a familiar dread crawled up my spine. 

I didn’t need to see his face. My body already knew what it meant.

“I’ve been informed about what happened today,” he said.

I stayed silent.

I knew he hadn’t come here to praise me.

I know… I know that…

“Have you forgotten everything you’ve been taught?”

I held my tongue. I was afraid of saying any word.

I clenched my fists. The cold spread through my limbs.

But— my silence only fueled his anger.

“Why are you so quiet now?” he shouted.

My throat tightened, my breath turning shallow as panic crept in.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“You seem to have forgotten your manners,” he said coldly. “Do you need a reminder?”

The blood drained from my face.

“I apologize. It won’t happen again.”

He stared at me for a few long moments — then turned and left.

The moment the door closed, my strength vanished.

My legs nearly gave out, but I forced myself to stay standing.

I will never show my weakness again.

Never.

I collapsed onto my bed.

Sigh…

I let out a slow, exhausted sigh.

My friends often talk about fathers who protect their children — voices filled with warmth, pride, safety.

So what about mine?

What does that say about my family?

About my… parents?

The thoughts pressed in on me, heavy and suffocating.

I checked the clock. Night had fallen — a time for rest, for dreams.

For me, it was just darkness.

Still… sometimes dreams are much better than this reality.