Meredith stood abruptly and shoved past her, and the movement was stronger than Harper expected. Her foot caught on the edge of the rug, and she fell backward, her body striking the sharp corner of the stone fireplace with a force that stole the air from her lungs. Pain exploded across her back as she screamed, her voice high and panicked.
Blood soaked through her shirt almost immediately.
Meredith froze for a moment, her eyes darting toward the door as if checking for witnesses, before her expression hardened into something cold and calculating.
“Stop making noise,” she said. “You are exaggerating.”
“It hurts,” Harper cried, struggling to breathe.
Meredith grabbed her arm and pulled her upright.
“If you tell your father that I pushed you,” she said quietly, “I will tell him that you were running and fell on your own. He will believe me, not you.”
Harper nodded through her tears, terrified of losing her father’s affection, however limited it had become.