In seconds he reached them, pulling Chloe away and holding her tightly against his chest. She clung to him, sobbing so hard her shoulders shook.
“What are you doing to my daughter?” Daniel demanded, his voice trembling with anger.
Vanessa stood up slowly, brushing imaginary wrinkles from her dress.
“You’re overreacting,” she said calmly. “She’s been disobedient. I’m teaching her discipline.”
Daniel stared at her in disbelief.
“She’s seven years old,” he said quietly. “And you were about to cut her hair because she was sitting outside?”
Chloe buried her face in his shirt.
Daniel gently ran his hand through her curls while memories suddenly rushed through his mind—the small bruises Chloe once blamed on playground falls… the way she flinched whenever Vanessa reached toward her… the quick “I’m fine, Daddy” answers he had never questioned.
A sick feeling twisted in his chest.
Vanessa crossed her arms. “You’re never home, Daniel. Someone has to raise her.”
Daniel’s voice dropped into a cold whisper.
“You’re leaving.”
Vanessa blinked in shock. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m completely serious,” he replied. “Pack your things.”
“You can’t throw me out of my own home!”
Daniel’s expression didn’t change.