When I opened the front door, the air inside felt heavy. Quiet—but not the peaceful kind. It was the kind of silence that warned something was about to explode.

“Mom?” I called out as I set my bag down by the hallway.

I had just come from a full day of classes—my bag heavy with plates, half-finished iced coffee in hand. All I wanted was sleep.

But that wasn’t what I got.

A sharp slap met me at the door. No warning, no dramatic buildup—just the raw sting of skin hitting skin. It sent me stumbling back, nearly twisting my ankle in my shoes.

“What the hell?!” I shouted, clutching...