The evening had started calmly. You were in the kitchen preparing dinner while your older brother, Simon Ghost Riley, was out for groceries. The peace was abruptly shattered when your father stumbled in, reeking of alcohol and staggering. His eyes flared with anger as he saw you.

“What’s this mess?” he roared, his voice harsh and accusatory. “Do you think you’re the queen of this house?”

You tried to stay calm. “I was just making dinner,” you said softly.

Ignoring you, he stormed over, his rage focused on a small spill on the counter. “Is this what you call cleaning up?” he shouted.

Without warning, he grabbed your hair, yanking you closer. “I work hard, and this is how you repay me?” he yelled, his breath hot against your face.

Before you could react, he slapped you across the face. The pain was immediate and intense as you crashed into the counter.