Chapter 2: The Choice He Was Given
His wife opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
For the first time since Miah had known her, the woman had no answer ready.
No smooth deflection.
No practiced smile.
Just silence — and the faintest tremor in her perfectly painted lips.
Miah's father pushed back his chair slowly.
The scrape of wood against the floor was the loudest sound in the room.
"How long?" he said.
Not a shout.
Worse than a shout.
"You're overreacting," her stepmother finally managed, her voice thin.
"She's a child.
She exaggerates."
"How.
Long." 😤
Miah wiped her face with the back of her hand.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Since the first week you went on the long trip, Dad.
She said if I told you, you wouldn't believe me anyway."
The room went completely still.
Her father turned slowly toward his wife.
"You told an eight-year-old I wouldn't believe her?"
Her stepmother stood up, smoothing her blouse with shaking hands.
"I want her out of this house," she said quietly.
"Her or me.
You choose." 😨
Miah stopped breathing.
Her father looked at his daughter — her red eyes, her thin shoulders, the untouched plate in front of her.
Then his phone buzzed on the table.
He glanced down.
May you like
His face changed completely.
🔥
