The Night Everything Changed
The afternoon sun cut through the windshield like an accusation as William Edwards gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, while his five-year-old son sobbed in the back seat. Each cry felt like a knife twisting in his chest, but Marsha sat beside him stone-faced and irritated. “Daddy, please don’t leave me there,” Owen whimpered, his voice cracking with genuine terror.
“Please. I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be so good.”
William’s jaw clenched.
He glanced at Marsha, hoping to see some maternal softness, some concern for their child’s distress. Instead, her lips curled in disgust. “Stop babying him, William,” she snapped.
“He needs to toughen up. My mother will straighten him out for the weekend. God knows you’re too soft to do it.”
William had met Marsha seven years ago at the community college where he taught psychology.
She’d been auditing his course on childhood development—ironic, considering how she treated their own child. Back then, she’d seemed different: confident, independent, magnetic. He’d mistaken her coldness for strength, her dismissiveness for pragmatism.
By the time he realized his mistake, they were married and Owen was on the way. He taught during the week and spent weekends researching trauma responses in children. Having grown up in foster care himself, bouncing between homes where kindness was currency and cruelty was common, he’d promised himself that any child of his would know safety and love.
But Marsha had other ideas. “He’s crying because you encourage it,” she continued, examining her nails. “One weekend with my mother and he’ll learn discipline.”
Sue Melton—his mother-in-law.
The woman was a retired military nurse with a face like granite and a demeanor to match. She’d raised Marsha with an iron fist and expected the same treatment for Owen. William had resisted these weekend visits for months, but Marsha had worn him down with constant arguments, threats of taking Owen and leaving, accusations of being controlling.
“Daddy!” Owen’s scream pierced through William’s thoughts as the boy unbuckled his seat belt, trying to climb into the front seat, small hands grasping desperately at William’s shoulder. “Don’t make me go. Grandma scares me.”
“Owen, sit back,” William started, but Marsha whipped around, her hand shooting out to grab Owen’s wrist.
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