Scarlet
“What the hell were you doing there all alone?”
Dad’s voice boomed across the room, shaking the very foundation of our home.
I flinched.
Not because I was afraid of him—my father had never even raised his voice like this before let alone raise hands—but because the weight of his fury crashed into me like a tidal wave.
Dad was always the calm one. The level-headed one.
But tonight?
He was livid.
The door slammed shut behind us as the three of us stood in the dimly lit living room, our breaths still ragged from the storm outside. My mother looked just as shaken, but her face was twisted with worry rather than anger.
"You could have been hurt, Scarlet!" my father continued, his voice tight, sharp. "You don’t just run outside alone when people like them come looking for you!"
