Chapter 4 - The Mark of Abuse
"What are you doing to my daughter?!" Mark screamed, his voice tearing at the seams, vibrating with a chaotic mixture of terror and unbridled rage. He scooped Lily up, pulling her trembling body into the safety of his broad chest. She collapsed against him, weeping uncontrollably, her small hands clutching at his grey t-shirt like a lifeline. She buried her face into his neck, shaking so violently that Mark's own teeth chattered.
As he held her, stroking her messy brown hair, his eyes fell upon her left arm. Right above her elbow, stark against her pale skin, was an angry, swelling mass of red and deep purple. It was fresh. The shape of it was unmistakable—it was the exact, crushing imprint of an adult’s fingers, dug deep into the muscle. A cold, nauseating sweat broke out on the back of Mark’s neck. The realization washed over him like ice water. This wasn't an isolated incident. The precision of the grip, the immediate terrifying silence of his child—how long had this monster been tormenting Lily in the shadows of his absence?
