Chapter 2 - The Red Mark
Fiona did not cry until we reached the heavy double doors of the restaurant. She pressed her warm, small face against my neck while ruined red frosting slid down the banquet table behind us, and the heavy smell of spilled beef stew followed me through the doorway.
Then, her little body started shaking. Long, shuddering hitches tore through her small chest as I carried her out into the cold night air.
I buckled her securely into her car seat and checked her cheek beneath the harsh, yellow glare of the parking lot light. A vivid, dark red handprint was already swelling across her soft skin. She touched it with two trembling fingers, looked up at me with tear-filled eyes, and whispered, "Grandma mad."
That tiny, frightened observation hurt worse than anything Wendy had ever said to me. It broke my heart into a thousand pieces, but in its place, a sharp, unyielding pillar of iron solidified.
Footsteps crunched heavily against the gravel behind us. Luca came running outside without his glasses, his eyes squinting against the darkness, his expensive dress shirt stained with dark brown broth. He kept glancing frantically back toward the restaurant, as if the cake-covered monster inside mattered far more than the terrified toddler strapped into our car.
"You need to come back inside, Jessi!" he demanded, breathless and angry. "Have you completely lost your mind?! You humiliated my mom in front of everybody! The entire family is inside!"
I stood between him and the car door, my hand firmly gripping the handle. "Did your mother hit our daughter?"
Luca rubbed his face, letting out a frustrated, exhausted sigh. "Jessi, please... you know how Mom gets when she's upset! You triggered her! You're making a massive scene over a minor discipline issue!"
A minor discipline issue.
That was his answer. It was all I needed to hear. In seven words, he had sealed his own fate.
"Step away from my car, Luca," I said, my voice dropping into a register so cold it made him flinch.
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"Jessi, don't do this!" he yelled, reaching for the door. "If you drive away right now, my mother will never forgive you! We won't be welcome at family functions!"
"Good," I said, sliding into the driver's seat, locking the doors, and starting the engine. "Because you won't have a family to bring."
