My gaze fell to Rowan's feet, clad in sandals so worn out that they barely held together. The thin straps had frayed and the soles were almost completely eroded. I remembered they were Nathan's discarded sandals from last year, passed down to Rowan when my cousin declared that Nathan deserved new things while Rowan was only fit for hand-me-downs. Those sandals had endured rain, heat and now the biting chill of winter, leaving Rowan's small feet covered in red chilblains.
The room fell silent for a beat, but the hope in Rowan's eyes was quickly extinguished. My cousin's expression contorted with fury and he exploded. "You filthy brat! You're only good for wearing trash!"
His voice thundered, filling the room. Without warning, he raised his hand and struck Rowan across the face. The sharp slap echoed, leaving a red imprint on the boy's pale cheek.
"A birthday? Do you think you deserve that?!" My cousin's words were venomous and with each syllable, his fists found their mark.
"Stop it, please! He's just a child!" Hana cried, rushing forward to intervene.
Even Nathan dropped his toy and grabbed his father's arm, pleading, "Uncle, don't hurt him! Please stop!"