Chapter 5 - Emily’s Hands
Ryan took Emily’s hands in his.
Carefully.
As if they were something breakable and sacred.
Her fingers curled inward from hours of scrubbing.
Her skin was reddened.
Small cracks lined her knuckles.
Soap and grease had collected beneath nails she had tried to keep clean.
Emily tried to pull away.
He did not let go harshly.
He only held steady.
“Let me see.”
She whispered, “Please don’t make it worse.”
His face twisted.
The sentence told him more than a confession.
Worse.
Not stop.
Not punish them.
Not defend me.
Make it worse.
She had learned that his family’s cruelty grew whenever she resisted.
Ryan turned to Linda.
“How long?”
Linda’s chin lifted.
“How long what?”
“How long have you been doing this to her?”
Linda laughed once, sharp and false.
“This is absurd.”
Ryan looked at Rachel.
Rachel looked away.
He looked at the guests.
Several suddenly found the floor fascinating.
He looked back at Emily.
She would not speak.
Not yet.
Not while Linda’s eyes were on her like claws.
So Ryan asked a different question.
“Who told her she couldn’t come inside?”
Linda’s face hardened.
“She was not dressed for the event.”
Ryan looked down at Emily’s soaked blouse and apron.
“She was dressed for what you made her do.”
Rachel’s champagne glass trembled.
Linda’s earrings shook as her jaw tightened.
“You send money for this household. I manage it.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed.
“For my wife.”
Linda went still.
He continued, each word controlled.
“Everything I send here is for Emily first.”
Rachel’s breath caught.
The guests heard it.
Linda heard it.
Emily heard it too.
Her eyes lifted slowly toward him.
For the first time that night, she looked less ashamed.
Ryan raised his phone again.
Linda took one sharp step forward.
“Don’t you dare.”
Ryan smiled without warmth.
May you like
“There it is.”
Read Chapter 6 👉 Because Linda finally revealed what frightened her most: not Emily’s pain, but Ryan changing the flow of money.
