Jonathan's POV
"You're seriously considering locking her away in some psychiatric facility? Have you completely lost your mind?"
Ethel's voice thundered through the destroyed living room, her fury radiating from every pore. The crimson hair she'd recently dyed seemed to amplify the rage blazing across her features.
She planted herself directly in front of me, her stance suggesting she was prepared to tear me apart with her bare hands. Based on the murderous glint in her eyes, my life expectancy had just dropped to mere minutes.
"I'm powerless to keep her safe. Just look at this mess!"
Even surrounded by the wreckage of our home, with shattered glass and blood pooled around her feet, Ethel refused to acknowledge the destruction. Her steel-gray eyes remained locked on mine, burning with disgust and unbridled anger.
But the evidence supported my decision.
