"What did you do?"
The question hung like a dark cloud on an otherwise beautiful day.
Charlotte knew exactly what he was talking about, she had known the moment she walked in from school and saw the beer bottles on the table.
"Charlotte, your father is talking to you, dear."
Her step mother's voice, Rebecca, was soft, almost honeyed, but Charlotte knew better. Beneath that God-given sweetness, lived a terrified woman.
Even more terrified now.
Because this time, her fear was for Charlotte.
They both knew what Vincent Goodman was capable of when given the wrong answer. And in that situation?
They were doomed.
There were no bullets to dodge.
"I'm not going to repeat myself."
Her father spoke again, this time through gritted teeth. He was a loud man usually but when he yells? It's like a thunder on a stormy night.
Charlotte's chest tightened. She was scared, terrified, really.
And she was guilty.
So when her father raised his hand to cover a cough...
she flinched.
The entire house stopped breathing. Waiting.
Mr. Goodman blinked, stunned. "Did you just flinch?"
Charlotte instinctively took a step back, needing more distance between them.
That only made him angrier.
Rebecca moved first. She quickly crossed the room and reached Charlotte, forcing a smile despite the tremor in her hands.
She slipped Charlotte's school bag off her shoulders gently.
"Charlotte, dear… are you having tremors again?"
Grateful for the excuse, Charlotte nodded.
"Silly girl... forgetting your coat at home again"
Rebecca guided her to the couch and sat beside her, directly across from Mr. Goodman. She cleared her throat.
"So your principal called earlier today…"
She trailed off, but Charlotte already knew. She knew exactly how that conversation must have gone.
Rebecca let out a small, strained laugh. "And this is going to sound shocking, but he claims you… confessed to your history teacher. Edward, I believe?"
"He lied!"
Edna appeared out of nowhere, her voice sharp with panic.
Rebecca closed her eyes in brief relief.
Charlotte's heart sank.
"What do you mean by that, Edna?" Mr. Goodman barked.
Edna froze. She was a terrible liar, everyone knew that. So she clung to half-truths in her head, If only she could speak without stuttering.
"S… S… Sister Ch—Ch—"
"Enough, you stuttering fool!" Mr. Goodman thundered.
Edna went still, like a soldier at attention. She didn't cry. Didn't flinch. Just held her breath.
Charlotte felt something in her chest crack. She's to blame for everything unfolding before her.
Rebecca's hand found hers, squeezing tightly.
Mr. Goodman's gaze swept the room until it landed on Edna's twin brother, Egbert, standing near the fridge.
He was understandably hiding.
"Egbert!"
The boy covered his mouth with his small hands, shaking.
In Mr. Goodman's world, a man was never allowed to be a coward. Even if that man was eight years old.
Egbert had just earned his punishment.
And that was when something inside Charlotte snapped.
It was sudden, like a wire burning through, like a switch flipping in her mind.
Before she could think, she moved.
By the time her father reached for Egbert's collar, Charlotte had already grabbed a knife.
She swung.
The room erupted into a deafening silence.
Not because of what she had done,
But because of what would happen next.
Now that she missed her target with an echoing sound of the knife hitting the ground.
Charlotte knew exactly what that meant.
Still, she didn't step back.
Even when Rebecca and her siblings tried to shield her father's beatings, she pushed them away.
No.
This was her fight.
"You wanted to kill your own father?" Mr Goodman was physically shaking from anger.
She lifted her chin, her voice trembling but unbroken.
"No" Charlotte said facing her father, "I wanted you bleed out"
Mr Goodman left Egbert's collar only to strangle Charlotte next. He was dead mad.
Laughing like a manic, he slapped Charlotte right across her face. She fell on the floor, her lower lip bursted.
"You ungrateful bitch!" Cussed her father before he started to kick her frantically.
"So you want to get married?" The father asked as he continued to beat the crap out of her.
"Yes!"
Her father stared at her, breathing hard. He couldn't believe his own ears.
Why can't she see her own potential?
Who would want an uneducated wife in this era?
Mr Goodman was silence.
Then,
rage.
The beatings lasted until he passed out on the floor beside the wounded Charlotte.
Even as he struck her, he repeated the same words over and over:
"I'll kill you tonight. I swear, I'll kill you."
And Charlotte believed him.
So did Rebecca.
That night, with shaking hands and quiet urgency, Rebecca packed Charlotte's things. She called in a desperate favor from her best friend.
And just like that,
with one choice, one moment,
Charlotte left her family.