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She sighed and went back to her nervous cleaning. “Daisy,” she whispered, “when you’re with someone for as long as I have been with your dad, you learn things about them. Things you don’t like. Things you never thought possible.” She gave me a strange, faraway sort of look that stole just about the last of my breath. “And a lot can be forgiven when you understand where it comes from.”

I scoffed, stunned. “Forgiven? You can’tforgivethat! Mom, he hit you!”

“Am I bleeding? Am I bruised? No.” Her eyes flashed defiantly at me and her face hardened, her lips pulled into a thin line. “And he’s never hityou, not since you were ten, and never more than a spanking. He’s a good man, Daisy. He just has trouble controlling his temper sometimes. There is nothing more to it than that.”

I wish I could say that I fought with her for hours and eventually talked sense into her, but I can’t. I was so stunned and sickened by the whole thing that I barely lasted another five minutes before storming off to my room to cry.

The whole episode had shaken me to my core, forcing me to question not only my mom’s sanity, but my own.

How long had this been going on?

How had I not seen it before?

Suspected, sure, but I should have known for sure. I should have done something. Asked her if this kind of thing was going on before I had to see it for myself. She was right, they’d been together for ages. So long that I’m sure dust has covered the memory of just how and when they met.

When was the first time he put his hands on her? And how many times has he reddened her face with the full width of his palm. I felt like I was going to be sick. My stomach churned, threatening to turn inside out. Anger didn’t even begin to explain what I was feeling.

I slinked my way into the bathroom and grabbed my toothbrush like it was a weapon. The three minutes it took to brush my teeth felt like an eternity. So many thoughts pummeled my mind that my brain felt thoroughly exhausted by the time I made it to my room. I shrugged my way out of my jeans and pulled on an old t-shirt before hiding between the discomfort of my sheets.

As I cried myself to sleep that night, there was only one thing that I was certain of. There was no way in hell I was going to tell my dad about Kash. Not in public, not in private, not at all. My instincts had been right on the money.

Vindication never felt so shitty.