Bennett’s POV
“I’m going to make sure you live through hell until Syria comes back!”
Then, another loud c***k of a whip echoed across the hallway.
I was walking past, trying to sneak out, hoping not to get involved in anything, but then I saw it.
My father, towering over Grandma, his hand gripping that same thick leather whip he always kept in his room.
He lashed it across her back again, and again, and again, as if he wasn’t hitting a person anymore but a lifeless object.
Grandma’s scream rang through the entire house.
It was haunting, like it was trying to escape her soul, trying to claw its way out through the pain.
It was pure torture.
Mom wasn’t around. She was locked up in the chamber, Dad’s own private prison beneath the house.
He put her there after finding out she ch
