Chapter 2: The Line Drawn
"Get out," David's voice dropped to a lethal, trembling whisper. The initial explosive rage was settling into something far more dangerous—a cold, immovable resolve.
Eleanor rubbed her shoulder, trying to regain her fragile dignity. "She needs to learn respect, David," she spat back, though her voice visibly wavered. "She was hiding her mother's necklace. I know she has it."
"She is seven years old!" David fired back, refusing to yield an inch of space. "She lost her mother six months ago, and you come in here and lay hands on her? Over a piece of jewelry?"
Lily was curled against the base of the crib, her soft, panicked sobs echoing in the tense room. David didn't take his eyes off Eleanor, afraid that if he blinked, her volatile nature might spark again.
"You're making a massive mistake," Eleanor warned, straightening her black top. "You can't raise these kids alone. You need my help, whether you admit it or not."
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"I’d rather raise them in a tent in the woods than let you anywhere near them ever again," David said, his voice steady and resolute. "If you ever step foot on my property, if you ever look at my daughter again, you are going to pay for it. Get out of my house."
Sensing that she had entirely lost whatever leverage she thought she possessed, Eleanor grabbed her purse from the rocking chair and stormed out, her heavy footsteps retreating down the hall until the front door slammed shut.
