“Baby, don’t cry,” he said, reaching toward her. “We can fix it. Maybe get you a wig. You’ll still be beautiful tonight.”
Kayla collapsed against him, shaking.
Then Reese stepped forward.
“I cut her hair so she couldn’t go to prom with you.”
Steven gave a short laugh.
Too sharp.
Too loud.
Then Reese said,
“You hurt my sister all the time. I saw the purple marks where you grab her.”
Everything went silent.
Kayla stopped crying.
Steven’s arm tightened around her.
“Children make things up,” he said, looking at me. “Tell her, Kayla. Tell your mother how good I am to you.”
Kayla stared at the sink.
Reese walked over to my phone.
She opened the photo gallery.
There were pictures.
Dozens of them.
Timestamps from late at night.
