ROOSEVELT’S POV

The loud crack of my hand hitting Mina’s cheek echoed in the bedroom, the force of the slap knocked her back onto the rug. She raised her hand to cover her rapidly reddening face, staring up at me in shock.

I stood over her, my chest heaving as adrenaline surged through my veins. Looking down, I spotted a tiny, sharp plastic sword by Lorna’s knee, stained with a drop of bright red blood.

In an instant, my protective rage disappeared, replaced by a chilling wave of horror, I realized she hadn’t hurt my daughter, it was just a stupid toy.

“Mama, why did you hit Aunty Mina?!" Lorna...