As Abigail reached for a glass of water, it slipped and shattered on the floor. The sound froze the room.
“Look at what you did,” Patricia hissed. “Apologize.”
“I am sorry,” Abigail whispered.
“Not good enough.”
Patricia raised her hand. Michael moved forward instinctively, but Nancy rushed in first, placing herself between the child and the blow.
“Stop,” Nancy shouted.
The slap struck Nancy’s cheek instead. The room gasped.
“You are fired,” Patricia screamed.
“Do what you must,” Nancy replied, her voice shaking yet firm. “You will not touch her.”
That moment shattered the last restraint Michael had left. He dropped the shears and stepped inside.
“That is enough,” he said.
Patricia turned, scowling. “Get back outside. You do not speak to me like that.”
Michael straightened, his voice calm and unyielding. “I said it is enough.”
He removed the false beard. Recognition rippled through the room.
“Michael,” someone whispered.
Patricia staggered back. “This is a trick. You are supposed to be in Chicago.”
“I was supposed to protect my children,” Michael replied. “I failed, and I am here to fix that.”