Before I could answer—SMACK.
The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot. My cheek burned. Ethan froze, then burst into sobs. “Dad, please! Don’t hit Mom!”
Mark didn’t even flinch. He grabbed his phone, typed one message, and stared past us like we were furniture. “I’m done with you two.”
I followed him to the door, shaking. “Mark, it’s his birthday. He’s ten. You can’t just—”
He turned, voice low and venomous. “Watch me.”
Outside, a blonde woman stood by a black SUV, smiling like she’d won something. Mark brushed right past me, kissed her on the cheek, and slid into the passenger seat. The SUV pulled away while Ethan screamed from the doorway, “Dad! Come back!”
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