“Chloe,” Victor said softly, trying to keep his voice calm. “I’m here now. You can come to me.”
She didn’t move.
Victor set his suitcase down carefully and walked toward her step by step.
When he knelt in front of her, Chloe flinched slightly.
“What hurts, sweetheart?” he asked gently.
She twisted the hem of her pajama shirt nervously.
“My back,” she whispered. “It hurts all the time. Mom said it was just an accident. She said I shouldn’t tell you… that you’d get angry.”
A cold heaviness spread through Victor’s chest.
Instinctively he reached out to hug her.
But the moment his hand touched her shoulder, Chloe gasped and pulled away.
“Please… don’t touch it,” she whimpered. “It hurts.”
Victor immediately withdrew his hand.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Just tell me what happened.”
Chloe glanced nervously down the hallway.
“She got mad,” she said after a long pause. “I spilled some juice. She said I did it on purpose. Then she pushed me into the closet. My back hit the handle. I couldn’t breathe… I thought I was going to disappear.”
Anger surged inside Victor, but he forced himself to remain calm.
“Look at me,” he said softly. “Spilling juice is an accident. None of this was your fault.”