Part 7
With the trial date set for three months away, my parents grew desperate. Their social standing was completely gone. My father was asked to step down from the board of his firm, and my mother was ostracized from every country club and charity committee she belonged to. They were pariahs, and they knew exactly who to blame: Ethan and me.
One rainy Tuesday evening, Ethan was at a late-night deposition. I was home alone, trying to read a book to distract myself from the phantom pains in my stomach.
Suddenly, the power to our house went out.
The lights flickered and died, plunging the living room into total darkness. My heart began to race. I reached for my phone, but before I could turn on the flashlight, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps on our back deck.
Then, a loud crash as the glass of our kitchen window shattered.
Panic seized me. I sprinted toward the front door, but before I could unlock it, a large hand grabbed my shoulder and violently spun me around.
I screamed, preparing to fight for my life, but when the flashlight beam hit the intruder's face, I gasped.
It was my father.
He looked completely unhinged. His clothes were soaked from the rain, his eyes were bloodshot and wild, and he smelled heavily of alcohol.
"You miserable, ungrateful little bitch!" he roared, shaking me by my shoulders. "Look at what you’ve done to us! Look at what you're doing to your sister! She is losing her mind in that place!"
"Get out of my house!" I screamed, kicking at his shins. "Get away from me!"
"You are going to call the DA tomorrow," he snarled, his grip tightening until my bones ached. "You are going to tell them you lied. You are going to tell them the recording was edited by your hotshot husband. If you don't save Madison, I swear to God, Emily, I will make you regret the day you were born!"
"She killed my baby!" I screamed back, tears streaming down my face. "She killed your grandchild! And you're still protecting her!"
"It was an accident!" he yelled, raising his hand as if to strike me. "You were always a mistake! We should have given you away when you were born!"
Before his hand could fall, the front door burst open with incredible force.
Ethan stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the streetlights outside. He took in the scene in a fraction of a second—my father holding me, his hand raised to strike.
Ethan didn't hesitate. He lunged forward with the speed and ferocity of a predator. He grabbed my father by the collar, ripped him away from me, and slammed him face-first onto the hardwood floor.
My father groaned, the wind knocked out of him, but Ethan didn't stop. He pinned my father's arms behind his back, pressing his knee heavily into his spine.
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"I told you what would happen if you came near her," Ethan growled, his voice vibrating with a terrifying, lethal rage. He pulled out his phone and dialed 911 with one hand, keeping his weight firmly on my father. "This is Ethan Carter. I have a violent intruder pinned down at my residence. He has bypassed a restraining order, broken into my home, and assaulted my wife. Send backup immediately."
My father lay on the floor, his face pressed against the wood, weeping bitterly. For the first time in his life, his wealth and status couldn't save him. He was just a pathetic, broken man caught in the jaws of the justice he had spent a lifetime evading.
