“Zelene, why?” I pleaded. “Why are you lying about me? What did I do to deserve this? I’ve always treated you well. Why are you doing this to me?!”
She burst into loud, frightened sobs and shrank back in fear.
Naomi didn’t hesitate. She kicked me several times, yelling, “How dare you still play the victim?! You better pray she’s okay. Otherwise, I swear I’ll kill you!”
If her parents hadn’t stepped in to hold her back, I genuinely think she might’ve killed me.
“Let’s get Zelene to the hospital first!” her mother urged.
Naomi finally stopped, scoffing coldly before scooping up our daughter. The three of them rushed out in a panic, and despite everything, I followed.
I couldn’t let myself relax until I knew she was alright.
Thankfully, the cuts on her face weren’t serious. A bit of cleaning, some ointment, and antibiotics, and she’d be fine.
It was well past midnight by the time we got everything sorted out.
Then, just as things had started to settle, Naomi got a call—another out-of-town competition.
But the moment she tried to leave, Zelene clung to her and started wailing hysterically.