I was five years old the first time my father yelled at me and beat my ass so hard that I couldn’t properly sit down the next day. Chase and I had been playing hide and seek with Emily, who was four at the time. I was hiding in my father’s office, although we were forbidden from entering it. They weren’t home, so I wasn’t worried about getting caught.
I heard the office door open and I froze where I sat in the little niche between his desk and the wall near the windows. I heard my father on his phone and I knew I was done for unless I could sneak up on him and pretend to be adorable or cute.
He sat down in his chair and I could see the back of his head and his broad shoulders with the phone pressed against his ear. He lifted his head and turned it to the side and then sighed loudly.
“On
