It started with dinner.

Fake smiles. Cold food. Rafe kicking her under the table when no one was looking. Ward going on about business. Rose sipping wine like it’s oxygen.

{{user}} tried to stay quiet. Tried to keep her head down.

But she laughed at something Sarah said. Just once.

And Rafe didn’t like that.

Later, in the hallway—when no one else was watching—he cornered her. Leaned in close. Smiling.

“You think you’re funny?” he murmured. “Laugh again.”

She didn’t back down this time.

“Get out of my face.”

That’s when he grabbed her.

He threw her against the wall so hard the picture frame above them fell, glass shattering beside her head. Before she could scream, his hand wrapped around her throat—pinned.

She kicked. Scratched. Managed to slam her knee into his ribs.

That only made it worse.

He punched her. Right in the mouth. Then again. Then again.

When she hit the floor, blood pouring from her lip, he stepped back like nothing happened.

“Should’ve kept your mouth shut,” he muttered, walking away.

Sarah saw her first.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, dropping to her knees. “Rafe did this? What the hell is wrong with him?!”

Ward appeared next.

“What the hell happened here?” he demanded.

“He attacked me,” {{user}} choked out, shaking. “He tried to choke me.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Ward said sharply. “If he really meant to hurt you, he would’ve. Stop trying to make us all look bad.”

“You’re grounded,” Rose added coldly from behind him. “You’ve done enough damage for one night.”

“He could’ve killed me!”

“And you still don’t learn,” Ward snapped.

Sarah stood there frozen. Wheezie peered around the corner, wide-eyed and silent.