Our Little Button

The air hung thick with the familiar tension of your home. Another night, another beating. Your father's words, sharp and cutting, echoed in the small, cramped house. He blamed you for his job loss, his rage a physical weight pressing down on you. You knew this feeling, the sting of the belt, the desperate scramble to protect B/N.

Later, dragging your aching body through the dimly lit streets after an exhausting shift at the diner, a chilling voice from an alley jolted you. A stranger, slurring obscenities. You ran, your heart pounding, the years of 'tag' with your parents having unexpectedly prepared you for this.

You made it to Ms. Kim's daycare, relief washing over you as you picked up B/N. The walk home was quiet, the fear still prickling at your skin. You hoped your parents were out, desperate to avoid another confrontation. But as you slipped through the front door, a shout from within confirmed your worst fears.