Vince didn't come home for the next two weeks.

I never called him, nor did I storm over to Sansa's house to confront her about stealing my husband, as I might have done before.


My son stopped asking when his father would return.

We both silently erased this man from our lives.

I'd arranged Elise's new school. We just needed to finish this semester before leaving.


Then a call from the teacher shattered our peace.

"Mrs. Kosters! Please come to the hospital immediately—something's happened to Elise!"


My ears rang as I processed the news. I instinctively called Vince—he was Elise's father, after all—only to discover he'd blocked my number.

I raced to the hospital and found my son with a large gash on his head. Blood had soaked through his uniform, and a doctor was bandaging the wound.

Beside him sat Danny, Sansa's son, being treated for minor scrapes.

I nearly collapsed, asking my son what happened in a trembling voice.

"Mom, he called me fatherless, so I fought him. He hit my head with a broken faucet from the classroom."

My son pointed at Danny, his expression a mix of guilt and defiance.

Just then, Sansa rushed in with Vince right behind her, his face etched with worry.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Sansa cried, embracing Danny while Vince frantically checked him over.

Only after confirming Danny was fine did Vince glance our way. He noticed Elise's bandaged head, frowned slightly, then immediately hardened his voice.

"Elise! What's wrong with you? Causing trouble again! How could you hit Danny?"

Despite seeing the wound on our son's head, he showed no concern—only anger.

"He hit me first! He smashed my head with a faucet and called me fatherless! He said I was a burden!"

My son shouted back, his voice breaking with hurt.

"Vince, you know Danny—he's gentle like his father. He must have been provoked before he fought back."

Sansa quickly pulled Danny behind her, her voice anxious.

Danny glanced at Elise, mumbling: "I was just playing with him, and he pushed me..."

"You're lying! You pushed me first!"

Elise's head snapped up, eyes red with anger. He clenched his small fists, stubbornly fighting back tears.

Vince turned to our son, his voice sharp with impatience:

"No matter what, you don't hit others! Look how scared Danny is!"

I trembled with rage, my voice rising hysterically.

"Vince! Look at your son! He has a gash on his head—his uniform is soaked with blood! You blame him without even asking what happened? What kind of father are you?"

Elise pressed his face against my chest, his shoulders shaking as he spoke through tears.

"Mom, I didn't do anything wrong... let's go home."

Vince's expression softened momentarily. Just as he reached toward Elise, Sansa grabbed his arm, her voice honey-sweet.

"Vince, let it go. Boys will be boys, and Elise didn't mean harm. But Rosa, Elise is too impulsive—you really should discipline him better."

Vince nodded in agreement. "Yes, Elise has always been stubborn. You need to discipline him better before he causes more serious problems."

"I don't want a father like you!"

Elise suddenly looked up and shouted at Vince, then grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the exit.

"Vince, come by tomorrow. We need to discuss the divorce."

Without another glance at either of them, I led Elise out of the hospital.