The sky was gray and murky the next morning before dawn.

The chickens were clucking noisily when I groggily reached over to the side of the bed.

It was cold.

Eve must’ve snuck back in the middle of the night again.

Sighing, I got up, ready to begin another day’s work of hauling water, chopping wood, and starting the fire. There was never a moment to rest.

After two hours of work, Dad finally woke up, strolling over to the table with a sour look, waiting to be served.

Eve came over, eyes downcast, and carefully placed a steaming bowl of oatmeal on the table.

Dad’s eyes locked onto her, dark and menacing. Suddenly, his hand shot out, grabbing her roughly.

She flinched, and the hot oatmeal spilled all over his pants.

Dad leaped up, fury flashing in his eyes. He grabbed her by the hair, yanking hard.

“You evil woman! Trying to ruin this family’s legacy, huh?”

He spat his words like venom, his face twisting with rage. “What were you doing sneaking around last night, huh? Meeting another man?

“Acting all pure and proper, pretending you don’t want me, but you just think I’m too old for you, don’t you?”

Eve winced, tears streaming down her face as she pleaded, “No, it’s not what you think. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

He ignored her, grabbing a cane nearby and lashing out. Each strike was accompanied by cruel words.

“I could smell the booze on you last night. Who were you with? Since your husband’s gone, you think you’re free now?

“Not a chance! I paid good money for you, and you’re going to give me a son before you even think about leaving!”

Eve had no way to escape.

She covered her head with her arms, trying to protect herself. Her clothes were soon torn, revealing bruises underneath.

My dad’s eyes grew darker. He threw the cane aside and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her toward the main room.

Her feet scraped against the floor. Her eyes filled with fear as she cried, “Please, let me go!”

However, he didn’t care.

His eyes met mine, and a chill ran down my spine. I knew if this continued, she wouldn’t survive.

So, I found the courage to throw myself at my father, wrapping my arms around his leg. “Please, Dad, it’s not her fault! She was checking on me last night because I wasn’t feeling well. Please, let her go.”

He glared at me with pure disgust.

Without hesitation, he lifted his foot, kicking me hard.

Pain shot through me as I was thrown backward, hitting the ground with a thud. It felt like everything inside me had shifted.

I coughed up blood.

“You ungrateful brat! You dare get in my way?

“You eat my food, live under my roof, and you still have the nerve to stand up to me. You worthless girl! Once I have a son, I’ll sell you off.”

Then, he continued dragging Eve toward the room.

I forced myself up, despite the agony, and grabbed his leg again.

“Please, Dad, don’t do this. Let her go!”

He stomped on my hand, grinding it under his boot.

I screamed in pain, but I couldn’t let go. If I did, Eve wouldn’t stand a chance.

Once again, he used his foot to shove me aside.

However, I crawled over, even though my clothes were stained with blood.

Dad’s face was ashen. He stared murderously at me, his facial muscles twitching with rage. It was as if he would kill me any second now.

Eve’s eyes filled with fear, and she shook her head desperately. “No, don’t worry about me. Just stay back.”

Dad dragged her into the room, and soon, the sound of agonizing screams filled the air. It was heart-wrenching and sent shivers down my spine.

I slumped to the ground, my fists clenched so tightly that my knuckles turned white as I fought back the urge to vomit.

Our neighbor, Mrs. Hart, sat on her porch, sneering.

“Didn’t think old Frank still had it in him. My man’s no good; comes home and passes out like a pig. College girls like her have it easy—if it’s not the husband, it’s the father-in-law. There’s always a man around taking care of them.”

She looked at me with a mocking smile. “You’re still too young to understand, Emma, so kind and caring. You feel sorry for her, but she’s the lucky one.”

My eyes burned with anger, but I forced myself to stay still.

The screaming from the room stopped abruptly, leaving an eerie silence.

I ignored the pain and hobbled to the door, trying to push it open, but it was locked.

Through the narrow crack, I saw her lying on the old bed, her face pale and bruised. Tears streamed from her eyes.

If this continued, it would kill her.

I pounded frantically on the door, shouting, “Dad, Mike’s back! He’s outside watching you!”

His movements stopped abruptly. He pulled up his pants and opened the door, looking terrified for a moment before realizing no one was there.

His eyes darkened again.

He grabbed a hammer from the table, swinging it at me. I dodged, fear propelling me, but he was quick.

About to be caught up, I ran behind Mrs. Hart, using her as a shield.

“Frank, be careful!” she yelped. “Don’t you hit me!”

I clung to her, pleading, “Please, Mrs. Hart, help me. He’s going to kill me!”

She reluctantly spoke up. “Come on, Frank. You don’t want to ruin her. She’s worth money. Remember, you promised her to my family.”

Dad stopped, seething with rage. “Should’ve strangled you the moment you were born, you little brat! Nothing but trouble!

“If you speak out again, I’ll cut out your tongue.”

I was thrown into the pigpen; the stench filling my nose as I landed on the dirty straw. It was my other home, the place I ended up in whenever Dad was furious.

Since Mike died, Dad refused to let anyone mention his name.

Mike was a sore subject for Dad.

After all, Mike wasn’t always mentally impaired.

He used to be sharp, just like Dad, in both temper and personality.

I hated him.

When we were kids, he’d encourage Dad to hit me. As we grew older, he’d do it himself, leaving bruises all over me.

Mom tried to stop him a few times, but Mike beat her so badly that she couldn’t walk for days.

As Mike grew older, the way he looked at me changed, too.

One day, he dragged me out to the cornfield, saying someone wanted to play a game with me.

There was another guy there, someone Mike often hung out with. He pulled down my pants and started touching me.

I fought back. My mom told me that no one could touch me there.

However, Mike’s eyes blazed with anger when he saw me struggling and he slapped me. He told me to behave and held me down.

Since he was stronger, I couldn’t fight him off. I was pinned down, corn stalks breaking beneath me.

The tears flowed, but there was nothing I could do.

That man pulled down his pants and climbed on top of me.