Shattered Party, Fierce Comeback

f they wanted a scene, I would gi

suddenly quiet room. "You all think I'm a th

d out m

ity cameras. We'll have them review the footage from th

s a tiny flicker, but I saw it. She g

lice. It's just a misunderstanding. I probably just mispla

investigation and a potential scandal that could reach the

ed, his voice sharp with warning. "Yo

rried about damage," I said, my t

macked the phone out of my hand. It flew through the air, hitting the marble

yone!" he snarled, his

, took over. I slapped him. Hard. The sound was just a

e you!"

I stumbled backward, losing my balance. My he

n't hit t

e multi-tiered birthday cake, th

ck of my head with both hands, his fingers tangling pai

eet, cloying smell filled my nose and mouth. Cream smeared across my face, blinding me, cl

into the sugary confection, until

bbed from his first slap, my scalp ached where he had grabbed my hair, and my dignity was in tatters, s

, this person my father called a son. His chest

n crying, scared of the blood. My mother, Evelyn, had rushed out. She didn't scold me. She knelt, wiped my tears with her thumb, and cleaned the

was sh

tight, holding him back. He was watching his daughter, covered in cake and blood, be humiliated, and he did nothing. Her hold on him was stronger tha