The storm made the drive dangerous, the road slick and dark, lightning flashing across the sky. But I didn’t slow down.

I reached the house just after 2 a.m.

Victor opened the door casually, like nothing had happened.

“Well, look who showed up,” he said.

My mom stood behind him, tense.

“Lily’s fine,” she said quickly. “It’s just a scratch.

Then I saw my sister.

She was sitting in the hallway, shaking, clearly hurt and trying to stay strong.

I stepped forward—but Victor blocked my way.

“You’re not taking her anywhere,” he said.

I looked at him quietly.

part2

My stepfather hu:rt my disabled sister during an argument, leaving her injured. She called me while shaken, and I drove five hours through a storm to get to her. When I arrived, my mom said it was “just a scratch.” What happened next still stays with me