Chapter 3 - The Coward’s Defense
Mark stepped between his mother and his wife, his light blue dress shirt creased at the elbows from his sudden, jerky movements.
"Claire, calm down, you're out of your mind!" Mark hissed, trying to keep his voice low while his hands trembled violently.
"She’s an old woman, Claire! It was an accident! She was just trying to swat the soup bowl away before it burned Emma!"
Claire looked at her husband, searching his face for any sign of a protective father, finding only a frightened boy hiding behind his mother’s skirts.
"An accident?" Claire laughed bitterly, a sound completely devoid of humor or warmth.
"She raised her palm and slapped a twelve-month-old infant across the cheek because a spoonful of broth hit her lace dress."
Emma let out a small, trembling whimpering sound, burying her tiny nose into the collar of Claire’s charcoal blouse.
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Claire stroked the back of the white cotton onesie, feeling the feverish heat radiating from her daughter’s traumatized body.
"If you don't tell her to leave right now, Mark, I am calling the Fairfax County Police Department to report child abuse."
