Chapter 4
Dutch
Four Years Old
“…andtheylivedhappily ever after,” Mommy says. I cuddle into her arms, resting my head on her chest as she finishes the story. Placing the book on the bedside table, she wraps her arms around me, holding me close.
“Did you have fun at preschool today?”
“Mm-hmm! Mrs. Walker teached us about dinsors!” I reply, popping my thumb in my mouth.
“Dinosaurs?” Mommy asks.
Leaning my head back, I look up at her, nodding. Mommy is so pretty. I wish she didn’t have to stay in this room all the time. Daddy says she is very naughty so has to stay in her room for timeout. I don’t think she’s naughty.
“Which one is your favorite?”
“Um, T-Rex!” I shout. “He has funny arms. Roar!”
Mommy laughs, hugging me tighter. Her hugs are nice, they make me feel all cozy in my heart.
Just then, the door crashes open, hitting the wall. Daddy stomps in, a mad look on his face. I bury my head in Mommy’s chest, closing my eyes. If I wish really hard, maybe he will go away.
Daddy grabs my arm and yanks me off Mommy’s lap. “Ouch, Daddy, you’re hurting me!” I cry out.
Mommy stands up, reaching out toward me. “Please, Vincenzo! It’s only been fifteen minutes. Please let her stay a little longer. I’ll do anything.”
Daddy turns, putting his face close to Mommy’s. “You’ll fucking do whatever I say anyway, won’t you?” He yanks me up into the air by my arm, my feet kicking as I wail from the pain. “You got your weekly time with her. If you want to see her next week, I suggest you shut up.”
“But—” Mommy’s words are cut off when Daddy slaps her hard across the face. Tears leak down my face as Mommy falls to the floor, her hand covering her cheek.
“Mommy!”
“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay. Go with Daddy and be a good girl for him.”
Daddy tucks me under his arm and storms out of the room, locking the door behind him. Setting me down, he grabs my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Go find your nanny and go to your room. I don’t want to see you again today.”
Wiping my eyes, I nod and leave to find Nanny. I don’t want to see Daddy again today, either. He’s the naughty one. Someone should lockhimin a room.
Eight Years Old
“I hate you!” I scream at Dad, eyes narrowed and fists clenched. “I wish you were dead!”
Dad rounds on me and I try to back away, but he’s faster than he looks. His hand closes roughly around my neck, and he lifts me up, pressing my back to the wall. His face is close to mine, and I can’t do anything but stare back at him, the fury in his eyes matching my own.
“Daniella—”
“Dutch! My name is Dutch!”
Dad growls at me, and fear slithers down my spine at the sound. I know I shouldn’t have yelled at him; he’s going to make me pay for it. Or he’ll punish me by not letting me see Mom for another week. Or a month, like last time.
“Dutch. What kind of name is that for a girl?” he snaps back at me. “Daniella is the name I gave you, and it’s the one you will use, do you hear me?” His hand tightens around my throat, my breaths coming out in sharp gasps as I try to draw air into my lungs. “Now, would you like to tell me why I caught you trying to get into your mother’s room? It’s not your day to see her. You know the rules, Daniella. Explain.”
His grip loosens so I can talk. “I just miss her, I wanted to talk to her.”
“That’s what your nanny is for. If I catch you trying to get into her room again, Daniella, I’ll kill her.” His free hand moves up to shake my shoulder, causing me to thump against the wall painfully. “Do you understand me?” he says, his voice like ice. “Do you want your mother to die?”
I shake my head frantically, terror rushing through me.
