For My Daughter Chapter 1

After learning my daughter had been crippled by her husband—and that he would face no consequences—I asked the police with an unnerving calm, "Domestic abuse isn't a crime, is it?"

No one knew my history.

When my daughter was five, she was mauled by a rabid dog. I kicked it to death with a single blow.

At eight, she was harassed by a perverted neighbor. I beat him into a permanent disability. He’s still in a wheelchair today.

At fifteen, she was cornered by local gang members. I put a knife through the gang leader's throat and critically wounded his three accomplices.

I spent ten years in a maximum-security prison for that.

Today was my first day of freedom.

* * *

The day I was released, my parole officer told me my daughter, Jessica, had been beaten into a permanent disability by her husband. She was in the ICU, fighting for her life.

Her crime? She had taken an extra piece of meat at the dinner table without his permission. For that, he shattered her spleen and broke her spine. For the rest of her life, she would have to wear a colostomy bag.

The perpetrator, her husband Edward, was lounging outside her hospital room, casually playing a game on his phone.

"It's a husband's right to discipline his wife," he said with a shrug, not even looking up. "The day she married me, she became my property. Even if I beat her to death, the cops couldn't touch me."

His voice was light, completely devoid of remorse. The wedding band on his finger glinted under the fluorescent lights, as sharp and cold as the blade I had plunged into the gang leader's throat ten years ago.

I stared at him, my mind reeling. How could a husband say such things?

My heart bled, and a wildfire of rage ignited in my chest. I lunged forward, ready to kill this animal, but the plainclothes officer who had escorted me grabbed my arm, hissing in my ear.

"Don't be stupid, Sarah! You kill him, you'll go right back to prison!"

He squeezed my arm tighter. "Do you want your daughter to be without a mother for the rest of her life?"

His words hit me like a physical blow. My fist fell, limp and powerless, to my side.

Seeing my fight drain away, Edward sneered and flicked a business card at my face. "You want to sue me? Go ahead. You can even hire me. I'm the best lawyer in the city."

He smirked. "A backwater hick like you probably doesn't understand the law, so let me educate you. Domestic abuse isn't a felony. Even if I kill her, the law can't do a damn thing to me."

He turned his back to me, his voice growing more arrogant. "I never saw her as anything more than a placeholder when I married her. A common woman with no family to back her up? She's lucky a lawyer like me even looked at her. My family has connections in the courthouse and the police department. What are you going to do about it?"

He shoved me aside, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and sauntered away.

He didn't know. The last person who used my daughter to threaten me was long dead.