I never told my son-in-law that I was the most feared Drill Sergeant in Marine history. He forced my pregnant daughter to scrub the floors while he played video games. “Miss a spot and you don’t eat,” he sneered. I couldn’t take it anymore. I kicked the power cord, shutting off his game. He jumped up, furious. “You crazy old fool!” Before he could blink, I had him pinned against the wall by his throat, feet dangling off the floor. “Listen closely, maggot,” I growled. “Boot camp starts now.”

I saw her shoulders drop. The tension of three years left her body in a long, shuddering exhale. She was trembling, but she was standing tall. She was free.

The door closed. The sirens faded.

The house was quiet.

I stood up slowly. My knees ached. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving me feeling old and tired.

I walked to the hallway and picked up my bag. I needed to go. I had brought violence into her home. I had exposed the monster I kept hidden. A father shouldn’t be a killer in front of his child.

“Dad?”

I stopped, my hand on the doorknob.

“Where are you going?” Sarah asked.

I didn’t turn around. “I… I didn’t want you to see me like that, Sarah. I didn’t want you to see the things I’m capable of.”

I heard her footsteps. Soft. Gentle.