Tanner curled his lips in disdain, just about to speak, when the little boy in his arms suddenly rolled his eyes and sneered, “You want to apologize to him? Fine. Then clean the toy you knocked over just now, and I’ll let him go.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll clean it right away.”
My daughter quickly picked up the toy drone. It looked painfully expensive.
The boy added coldly, “But you can’t use water. I want you to lick it clean. Bit by bit.”
Her face turned pale. She hesitated, then murmured, “Romeo, I’m your real sister. How could you make me do that?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re just some bastard born from Mom and a dead ghost. I’m the only real child of Mom and Dad. Are you licking it or not? If not, don’t blame me for being nasty.”
“I’ll lick it!”
Tears welled in her eyes as she turned to glance at me, then turned away, heartbroken.
With her hand trembling, she lowered her head and stuck out her tongue, inching it toward the toy airplane in humiliation.
Just as her tongue was about to touch the dust-covered drone, I snatched it away and slammed it hard to the ground.
“You’ve gone too far!”
The rage in my chest made it nearly impossible to breathe. My eyes burned red as I glared at them.