Big Brother, Mom, and I remained frozen in place, our eyes locked onto Dad. He wore the same soft, weary smile he always did. But seeing it now felt… wrong.
"I'm home." He said, his voice deep and raspy.
His words lingered in the air, tightening my chest.
Dad turned his gaze away from us and walked into the kitchen. His eyebrows twitched as his gaze swept over the countertop before shifting back to Mom, the smile never leaving his face.
"Hey. Is dinner ready yet? I'm hungry."
Mom flinched—but she shook it off. She moved toward the kitchen in hurried steps.
"S-sorry. I was asleep for most of the day. I'll get to it right away!"
Dad's eyes darkened, sinking deeper into the shadows of the house.
"Is that so…"
Mom yanked open the fridge. Several condiments tumbled out, clattering against the floor and cutting off his words.
"Oh, just shut up and wait!" she snapped, her voice tight.
"I'll get it ready soon, so sit down."
Dad jerked back, eyes wide. He continued to follow Mom's movements in silence. Eventually, he raised his hands slightly, as if in surrender, and walked toward the dinner table—toward us.
I quickly averted my eyes. Anywhere but him. That's when I saw it.
In my peripheral vision, the sheet of paper with all the problems I had been working on was lying face up on the table.
My heart stopped.
H-he's going to see!
My fingers twitched, but it didn't move.
No way…
An overwhelming sense of dread washed over me, sending chills through my body. Dad sat down across from Big Brother and me. His eyes wandered the table—then sharpened.
"Lily…" he said calmly, "did you finish what I asked you to?"
His voice echoed in my ears, slowly becoming more and more distorted. My breaths grew shallow as they tangled with the distortions. My throat tightened. I tried to speak, but nothing came out.
Please! Please just… move!
Suddenly, a voice cut in—but it wasn't mine.
"Yeah, she did."
I turned towards the direction of the voice.
Big Brother met Dad with the same radiant smile he always wore. Relief surged through me, loosening the iron grip around my chest.
"Is that so?"
Dad reached for the paper and lifted it, scanning my answers with detached eyes. The room felt stale as his gaze moved line by line.
Did... I get them all right?
I turned towards Big Brother, and he gave me a small nod.
I-I did it!
I leaned forward in my chair, hope blooming in my chest. He's finally going to be happy!
Then, Dad's eyes stopped at the last line.
Everything in me went rigid.
Dad let out a rough sigh as he placed the paper on the table with deliberate care. One hand pressed flat against the wood as he glared at me.
"Lily," he said slowly.
"For starters, you got almost everything right. Good job."
My body didn't relax despite his praise.
"But," he continued, his voice tightening.
"You got the last question wrong."
His chair scraped loudly as he stood.
"Normally, that wouldn't be a problem."
I knew better than anyone that that was a lie. Failure was never an option—not with him.
"However, we have done this exact problem," he said, each word sharp.
"So. Many. Times."
Dad stepped toward me.
My heart pounded in my ears, syncing with his footsteps until he stood directly in front of me. My gaze crept up his shirt until it landed on his face.
The bags under his eyes seemed to sink deeper into his skull, making it look like he had two pitch-black holes where his eyes should be.
I jerked back—but Father's hand shot forward, gripping my wrist. I let out a pained yelp, "AH!" But Father didn't stop.
"How many times do I have to tell you?"
He pulled my arm, ripping me off the chair. I hit the floor hard, strands of my hair infested my mouth, making me retch.
Father didn't bat an eye as he dragged me across the floor, his grip cold and unyielding.
N-no!
I dug my nails between the cracks of the floorboards until they burned.
Father effortlessly pulled me away, tearing my nails off my fingertips. A wave of searing pain travelled through my arms and into my head.
"A–"
Everything went white.
Silence.
Father froze mid-step and turned around. The dark glare in his eyes flickered as they widened. Somewhere above the haze, I heard Mom's tools slamming against the counter.
What… happened?
My mind was muddled by nothing but agony as I stared at the blood seeping out where my nails should be. I wasn't fazed in the slightest.
Dad crouched down, reaching toward me.
"Hey–"
*SMACK*
Big Brother lunged in and slapped his hand away.
Dad staggered back, staring at him in stunned disbelief. He opened his mouth to say something, but it was interrupted by a voice more powerful than his.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Big Brother roared.
He scooped me in his arms and scrambled to the stairs. Dad tried to close the distance between us, but flinched when Big Brother yelled at him again.
"STAY AWAY FROM MY SISTER!"
Dad opened his mouth, words failing him. His face contorted between emotions—until his eyebrows creased and he clenched his fists.
"Who do you think you are–"
*Snap*
A quiet, eerie snap cut through the room. I felt Big Brother's body tense as he held me, and Dad froze.
A broken pair of chopsticks lay scattered on the floor.
A shadow loomed over them.
Mom.
She let out a chilling breath and spoke in a cold voice.
"How many times do I have to tell you to stop taking it too far…"
Her voice was deeper than Father's ever was. Even through my muddled thoughts, I could hear it clearly, snapping me out of my daze.
Before I could look, Big Brother covered my eyes.
"D-don't look," he whispered shakily.
"Trust me. Let's just go, I'll take care of you."
As he carried me up the stairs, a loud shout erupted below.
"HOW MANY TIMES HAS IT BEEN, SU?! I TELL YOU OVER AND OVER AGAIN! YOU NEVER LISTEN! EVEN WHEN JULIE IS HERE, YOU STILL DON'T HOLD BACK!!! THAT'S NOT HOW YOU DEAL WITH OUR KIDS!"
"Well–"
"NO! THERE IS NO EXCUSE!
Their voices slowly faded as we reached the top of the stairs.
***
After what felt like a long time, Big Brother finally lowered his hand.
A blinding light assaulted my eyes, making me squint. My vision slowly adjusted to the light. We were in the washroom.
I couldn't hear the screams of my parents anymore. Instead, the sound of running water filled the space.
Big Brother stood at the sink, occasionally running his hand through the water.
"Wh-what are you doing?" I croaked.
My throat hurt when I spoke.
Big Brother stopped what he was doing and looked at me like the answer was obvious.
"What does it look like I'm doing? We have to wash your fingers and bandage them up, ya know."
He gently guided my hand toward the water. I froze. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I frantically shook my head.
"N-no… It's going to hurt!"
I gazed at Big Brother desperately. He blinked at me a few times, then gave me his usual, radiant smile.
"Listen, lil sis," he said softly.
"I know that it'll hurt. But we have to clean it, or it could hurt even more. Please, will you trust me?"
He held my hand tighter. His grip was firm–but warm, easing the pain.
I slowly nodded my head, and his smile grew wider.
"Okay. I'm going to start now. If it hurts, let me know, and we can take a break. We will go at your own pace."
The water stung. I cried out. But every time I felt like giving up, I looked at him—his smile grounded me. I continued to endure the pain until it was finally over. When it was, Big Brother flashed me a proud smile.
"Good job, lil sis!" he said as he reached out his hand and patted my head.
"You did it!"
He pulled me in close and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. I giggled bashfully at his praise. But deep down I knew I was only able to do it—because he was there with me.
It was at that moment that I realized…
As long as I have his smile with me, I can do anything…