Hidden Scars, Hidden Truths

My daughter, Amelia Rossum, comes home with her palm pierced all the way through by a pencil. I drop my mop in a panic, hastily change out of my loungewear, and rush her to the ER. At the hospital entrance, my husband, Benedict Rossum, jumps out of his car and immediately lashes out at me. "How could you let this happen to her?" Our neighbor, Lorelei Bates, trails behind him, holding her daughter's hand. She addresses him gently, "Benedict, don't be so hard on Clarissa. Everyone makes mistakes." He scoffs. "Other mothers can keep their kids safe perfectly fine. What's her excuse? I bet she did this on purpose to guilt me into coming home early!" Amelia recoils and hides behind me. Seeing her reaction, Benedict crouches down and immediately softens his voice. "Don't be scared, Amelia. I'm right here. You can tell me what happened. I'll make it right." "Really?" She steals anxious glances at me. I shake my head, silently telling her not to say anything. With Lorelei standing right there, we don't stand a chance. She always finds a way to twist the truth against us. Benedict shoves me aside and picks Amelia up. "Clarissa, are you trying to scare her into keeping quiet? What kind of mother are you? What, did you stab her hand on purpose, too?" "No, it wasn't Mommy!" Amelia bursts into sobs. Benedict gently pats her back, his eyes reddening with distress. "It must hurt a lot, doesn't it, Amelia? Tell me what happened to your hand." She's sobbing so hard that she can barely catch her breath. After a long while, she finally points at Lorelei's daughter and says in between sobs, "Penelope and her friends stabbed me." Chapter 1 As soon as the words left her mouth, Benedict Rossum froze. His brow furrowed as he turned toward Lorelei Bates' daughter, Penelope Bates. Penelope immediately hid behind her mother. Her little face crumpled, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "I didn't do anything." Lorelei turned on her at once. "Then why would Amelia say you did? She's too young to make something like that up on her own. Unless somebody told her what to say, why would she accuse you for no reason?" Penelope wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "How am I supposed to know who told her that?" That was apparently all Benedict needed to hear. His expression hardened as he looked at our daughter, Amelia Rossum. "Amelia, who told you to say that? Was it your mom?" Amelia immediately panicked, shaking her head as hard as she could. "No! Nobody told me anything!" Alas, Benedict wasn't listening anymore. He had already decided I was behind it. "I'm exhausted from working overtime, and while I'm busting my ass at work, this is what you're doing at home? Teaching our daughter to lie?" My heart sank. "So you'd rather believe in someone else's child than your own daughter?" I shot back. Benedict let out a cold laugh. "I believe Amelia. You're the one I don't trust. Penelope doesn't have a mother feeding her things to say just to make other people look bad." I stared at him. After all these years, he still hadn't let that go. When Amelia was a baby, taking care of her by myself had nearly worn me down. I was up several times a night for feedings, and there were nights when I barely slept at all. One day, Mom called while I was exhausted, and I couldn't resist complaining to her. "Being a mother is exhausting when you're doing everything yourself. I think I liked being somebody's daughter better." Benedict happened to overhear me. He started a huge fight, accusing me of making him sound like an absent father and deliberately giving my mother the impression that he never helped with Amelia. From then on, whenever we were around other people, he made a point of talking about Amelia and how much he loved her. At the same time, he became increasingly critical of me. Whether we were with people or alone, he'd find some way to imply that I wasn't doing a good enough job raising our daughter. "At least this way, nobody hears one of your stories and walks away thinking I'm some deadbeat father who doesn't take care of his own kid," he had said. Amelia kicked him. "Daddy, you're so mean! You're always yelling at Mommy! I'm never telling you anything again!" She struggled to get down, but the movement pulled at the wound in her hand and tore it open again. She burst into tears. "Mommy, it hurts!" Benedict's expression hardened as he yelled at me, "What are you standing there for? Get her inside! Is this how you take care of your own daughter?" We rushed Amelia into the ER, both of us trying to protect her injured hand. Before we could get inside, Penelope suddenly cried out behind us and took off running. "You're only blaming me because I don't have a daddy! I'm an orphan anyway! Nobody loves me, and nobody cares what happens to me!" Lorelei clutched Benedict's shirt. "Please, go after Penelope. What if something happens to her?" Amelia's face was already pale from the pain. She reached for Benedict and clung to him. "Daddy, don't go. It hurts so bad." Benedict pulled her off him and pushed her into my arms. Then, he turned and ran after Penelope. "Take care of her! If anything happens to Amelia, you're going to answer for it!" Amelia stared after him, then at her hand, which she was still holding awkwardly in the air. The color drained from her face. Meanwhile, Lorelei casually strutted over and flashed me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Clarissa. Penelope's still a kid, and she can be a little possessive. She's gotten so attached to Benedict that she practically thinks he's her father." I had no patience left for her. Instead, I turned and took Amelia into the ER. Chapter 2 By the time we got into the treatment bay, Amelia's hand was already turning purple. Her little body wouldn't stop trembling. "Mommy, I'm scared. Can Daddy come stay with me, too? I can wait for him." My eyes stung, but I nodded and called Benedict. When he answered, his tone was laced with exhaustion. "I leave you to handle one simple thing, and you still can't do it without me. What would you do if I weren't around?" I was so angry that I nearly hung up. But when I turned and saw Amelia watching me expectantly, I swallowed my anger and forced myself to plead with him. "Amelia really wants you here. They have to pull the pencil out of her hand, and she's terrified." "Can you stop using Amelia to guilt me every time you want something?" Benedict's patience was already wearing thin. "Fine. I'm coming." I nodded at Amelia, and her eyes immediately lit up. Thus, we waited and waited. An entire hour passed, but Benedict never showed. Amelia kept glancing toward the door. With every passing minute, the hope in her eyes dimmed a little more. Finally, the doctor approached with a pair of sterile forceps. "We can't put this off any longer. If the tissue starts dying, the damage could become severe enough that she loses the hand." I called Benedict again. "You promised Amelia you'd come. She's been waiting for you. If you don't show up, you're going to break her heart." He sounded annoyed. "She's six. She's not going to remember every little thing. And can you stop twisting everything to make me look like a terrible father? Something came up, and I can't leave right now. I have to go." A moment later, a text from Lorelei popped up on my phone. "I'm so sorry, Clarissa. Penelope fell when she ran off earlier. She looks okay, but Benedict said he wouldn't feel comfortable until she got checked out." I stared at the message without expression. Then, I turned off my phone, took a deep breath, and stroked Amelia's hair. "Your father got called back to work. He's really busy, so we're not going to wait for him anymore, okay?" Amelia nodded. Then, through the window, she happened to see Benedict walking past with Penelope in his arms. "Daddy!" she yelled. "That's Daddy…" The door to the treatment bay was closed, though, and Benedict never heard her. Amelia had leaned eagerly toward the window, craning her neck for a better look. A moment later, she slowly drew back and wrapped her arms around me without a word. Then, she looked at the nurse. "You can start. I'm not waiting for Daddy anymore." The nurse rolled the cart over. "Okay, sweetheart. I'm going to count to three. Try not to move for me." Amelia's body went rigid as she pressed herself against me. I wrapped both arms around her, even though I was trembling, too. The pencil came free, streaked with blood, and I heard the sickening sound of it pulling through torn flesh. Amelia's tears soaked into my shoulder. It felt as though something inside my own chest had been torn open right along with her hand. … The next morning, I took Amelia to kindergarten. She stayed unusually quiet for most of the way. Then, she asked timidly, "Mommy, do I have to go to school?" I crouched down in front of her. "Why don't you want to go, sweetheart? All the other kids go to school. Wouldn't it be fun to play with everyone?" She lowered her voice. "But Mommy… nobody at school wants to play with me." My heart clenched. "Why doesn't anyone want to play with you?" Her eyes reddened, and she dropped her head even farther. "Penelope tells everybody I'm stealing her daddy. She says if they don't want someone to steal their daddies too, they can't play with me." Her shoulders started shaking. A second later, the sobs she'd been holding back finally broke free. "Mommy, is something wrong with me? I really want a friend…" My own tears came instantly. With trembling arms, I pulled her into a tight embrace. "There's nothing wrong with you, Amelia. You're an amazing little girl." After we got home and I finally got Amelia to sleep, I asked her teacher to send me the security footage. In the video, the other children were gathered in little cliques, talking and playing with one another. Amelia was the only one sitting by herself. I stared at the screen with burning eyes and found myself just as quiet as she was. Being ostracized like that could break an adult, let alone a six-year-old child. A little later in the video, a group of kids approached her. Penelope was leading them, carrying a cardboard box in her hands. I watched Amelia's face flush before she rushed forward and tried to grab the box. The two girls immediately began struggling over it. The children around them laughed and egged them on. Then, they opened Amelia's pencil case and started pelting her with pencils. Amelia threw up her hands, desperately trying to protect herself as they came flying at her from every direction. While she was distracted, Penelope managed to pull free. She grabbed a pencil from the floor and raised it, preparing to stab it into the cardboard box. Amelia's face fell. She lunged toward Penelope, and the pencil that had been aimed at the box plunged into Amelia's palm instead. For a moment, my breath hitched. I looked over at Amelia sleeping beside me, and the memory of that pencil piercing her hand felt as though it had gone straight through my own heart. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I sent the video to Benedict, but he never even read the message, let alone reply. So, I sat beside Amelia and waited for a response, crying quietly while keeping mosquitoes away from her as she slept. Benedict had been the one to name Amelia. Back then, he'd told me that Amelia would always be the most precious person in his life. But that devotion seemed to exist only when he talked about it. Whenever Amelia actually needed him, he was nowhere to be found. He was either working late or rushing off to take care of Lorelei's daughter. Benedict was always telling me how hard Lorelei had it, raising a daughter all by herself. But when he was gone this often, how was I any less alone? Chapter 3 Benedict finally came home that evening, with Lorelei and Penelope behind him. "Lorelei and Penelope wanted to stop by and see how Amelia's doing." I blocked the door. "They're not coming in. They're not welcome here." Benedict shoved me aside. "What is wrong with you? I let your attitude slide when it's just us, but we have guests. Do you really have to start something in front of them, too?" I wasn't backing down this time. I wasn't going to let anyone who had hurt my daughter come anywhere near her again. When Benedict realized I had no intention of moving, he forced a polite smile and turned to Lorelei and Penelope, not wanting the argument to escalate. "Sorry about this. Let's take a rain check." The door had barely closed behind them when I shoved my phone in front of his face. "This is the security footage from Amelia's classroom. Watch it." Benedict gave me an annoyed look, then reluctantly took the phone as if humoring me was some huge favor. He didn't make it past the first few seconds. With a frustrated sigh, he pushed the phone back toward me, called Amelia into the living room, and pointed at the opening scene. "Why were you trying to take something that wasn't yours?" he chided. Whatever hope I'd still been holding on to disappeared with that one question. Amelia was so frightened that she didn't dare speak. I picked her up and faced Benedict. "Can you at least finish watching the video before you decide she's guilty? Penelope brought a whole group of kids over to gang up on Amelia!" Benedict scoffed. "They're kindergartners, Clarissa. They don't even understand what bullying is. Stop picking up dramatic words online and throwing them around every time something happens." Amelia suddenly turned in my arms and clung to me, resting her chin on my shoulder without saying a word. I was afraid that arguing in front of her would only make things worse, so I carried her back to her bedroom. When I came out, I deliberately kept my voice low. "Penelope's been telling the other kids that Amelia is trying to steal her father. Now, everyone at school is shutting her out, and nobody will play with her. Amelia's not acting like herself anymore. I think we should have her talk to a doctor." Benedict looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "What, do you have cash to burn? You're making a mountain out of a molehill." With that, he went into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. I stood there, taking one deep breath after another until I finally got myself under control. Only then did I put a smile on my face and go back to Amelia. I sat beside her and gently asked why she'd tried to take the box from Penelope. Amelia leaned in, cupped her hands around my ear, and whispered, "It was Daddy's birthday present. Don't tell him yet, Mommy. I want it to be a surprise." I looked at her in surprise, then nodded without a word. That night, Amelia couldn't sleep. I stayed beside her and gently patted her until she finally drifted off, but before long, she woke screaming from a nightmare. So, I soothed her back to sleep again. Then, it happened again, and the cycle repeated itself until daybreak. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong, so I took Amelia to a psychiatrist anyway. It took a lot of careful probing before she finally began to open up. Between hiccuping sobs, she said, "They hit me every day. They stand around me and laugh. It makes me feel so sad…" The psychiatrist diagnosed her with moderate depression. I sent the diagnosis to Benedict, asking him to pay more attention to Amelia and make an effort to cheer her up when he was home. Instead, when he came back, he started another argument. "You took her to a psychiatrist? What are people supposed to think now, that there's something mentally wrong with our kid?" That was the last straw. "Benedict, you tell everyone that Amelia means more to you than anything. So which matters more to you, your daughter's health or what people think of you?" I demanded. His eyes widened in anger. Then, he stormed toward the door. "Fine. You're the one who matters most. Happy now? Apparently, the entire world is supposed to revolve around whatever you think is right!" He slammed the door behind him. When I turned around, I realized Amelia was standing in the doorway. I had no idea how long she'd been listening. I started toward her, wanting to hold her, but she closed the door before I could reach her. "Mommy, I'm going to sleep." She was shutting herself off more and more. I stepped outside and called her teacher, intending to transfer Amelia to another school. Amelia was diagnosed with depression and was being bullied at school. Some parents might find those words embarrassing or uncomfortable. But if even a child's own parents treated her like the problem, then who was supposed to save her? Chapter 4 When Benedict found out I was arranging for Amelia to be transferred to another school, he actually took time off work to come home. By dinner, he was already criticizing me again. "Do you even know how to raise a child? If this is how you handle every problem, Amelia's going to grow up thinking she can run away whenever something gets hard." I didn't bother arguing with him. I knew this wasn't running away. It was getting my daughter out of a place where she was being hurt. Benedict slammed his utensils down and got up, clearly intending to take Amelia outside. I immediately stopped him. "Where are you taking her?" He shoved me aside impatiently. "I'm actually home for once. Am I not allowed to take my own daughter downstairs for a while?" The moment Amelia heard that, her previously vacant eyes lit up. She abandoned her dinner, hurried to the front door, and grabbed the gift she'd left there earlier. Then, she quickly hid it behind her back and flashed me a mischievous smile. The tension in my outstretched hand eased. I was about to follow them when Benedict turned and glared at me. "Would you stop watching me like I'm some stranger taking off with your kid? I know how to take care of Amelia better than you do. You don't need to come." Benedict didn't take Amelia downstairs to play. Instead, he took her straight to Lorelei and Penelope. Then, he made Amelia apologize. "If you made a mistake, you have to apologize. Good kids don't take other people's things," he said patiently. Amelia refused. Biting her lip, she finally pulled out the gift she'd been hiding behind her back. "Daddy, I didn't take anything. This is mine. I made it myself." Benedict paused. "What is it?" Amelia was just about to answer when Penelope suddenly snatched the box from her hands and threw it inside the apartment. "It's mine! You stole it!" she insisted. Amelia immediately lunged forward to get it back, but Benedict held her back. "And you're still insisting you didn't do anything wrong? You're literally trying to snatch it right in front of my eyes." He turned to Lorelei with an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Amelia's being really difficult today." "It's okay." Lorelei flashed him an easygoing smile, then crouched in front of Amelia. "Amelia, does your mom not buy you enough toys? How about I ask Penelope to give this one to you?" "N-No… It's mine…" Benedict's patience ran out. "Enough! Even if it is yours, what's the big deal if you let Penelope have it?" "No… It's for you, Daddy..." "In that case, I'm giving it to Penelope." Amelia tried to protest again, but Benedict cut her off. "That's enough. This is over. You two are going to put it behind you and be friends again." "N-No…" Benedict grabbed Amelia and started pulling her away. She became increasingly frantic until she suddenly clutched her head, dropped into a crouch, and began screaming. Lorelei frowned. "Amelia, stop screaming. Didn't your mom teach you better? If you act like this, nobody's going to want to be around you." Penelope stuck out her tongue and made a face. "Nobody likes bad kids! Nobody wants to play with you!" Benedict's temper flared even more. "Look what your mother has turned you into! See? If you keep screaming like this, nobody's going to like you!" Their threats did nothing as Amelia kept screaming in obvious distress. Lorelei covered her ears, went back inside, and shut the door. Meanwhile, Benedict folded his arms and stood nearby, his expression darkening by the second. All of a sudden, he raised his voice, trying to overpower Amelia's screams by shouting even louder. "Enough! Shut up!" Still, she couldn't stop. Benedict turned as though he were going to leave. Pointing at Amelia from several feet away, he shouted, "No wonder the other kids don't want anything to do with you! If you're going to act like this, I don't want you either!" When that still didn't work, he stepped into the elevator. "You won't stop screaming, huh? Fine. I'm leaving. Keep it up, and don't bother coming home!" Amelia's screams continued after he left, fading for a few moments before starting again. Then, eventually, everything went quiet. Penelope cautiously cracked open the apartment door and peeked outside. No one was there. She was about to close the door again when she happened to glance to the side. Her face instantly paled with fright as she screamed for Lorelei. Lorelei rushed over, and the color immediately drained from her face, too. She immediately grabbed her phone and called Benedict. "Benedict, something's wrong. Amelia's on the floor. She's foaming at the mouth and is unresponsive!" Benedict's heart skipped a beat. He immediately hit the elevator button and rushed back upstairs. But what he didn't know was that Amelia would never come home again.