“Mommy,” she sobbed, “my face… My face hurts so much! I can’t go to the livestream anymore! Please, Mommy, don’t hit me again! I’ll… I’ll be good. I’ll listen. Mommy, please…”
She did it again. She framed me—again.
Tyson’s face twisted in rage. He slapped me hard across the face.
“What the hell is going on, Sadie?! You pushed her this far?!”
My in-laws were in shock. Heartbroken. But they still tried to calm him down.
As our daughter cried and explained her version of events, Tyson snatched my phone to look for evidence.
I wasn’t worried. I had just checked. There was nothing there.
But as he scrolled, his face grew darker, like a storm brewing behind his eyes.
My in-laws, alarmed by the way he was breathing—heavy, furious—rushed over to look.
“Sadie!” Harold barked. “How could you force my granddaughter into this?!”
“What has our family ever done to you?” Priscilla cried. “How could you humiliate her like this?”
Harold was shaking. He was so angry he stood and flipped the dining table.
Priscilla was wiping tears, muttering that it all made sense now. “No wonder Niah has been acting so strange!”
So apparently, I’d been abusing her behind their backs all along?