They canceled my flight, so I returned to my mansion in silence. When I opened the door, I found my four-year-old daughter trembling with hunger, clutching a heavy book while my wife snapped, “If you drop it, you start over.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Time for your breathing exercises.”

Half an hour later, a sudden storm grounded his flight. Instead of frustration, Alexander felt something unexpected—relief.

On the way back, he stopped to buy Lily a beautiful doll, convinced a surprise might finally bring her a smile. He even decided it was time to set things straight at home. He was sure Mrs. Carter’s negativity was affecting the child.

He entered quietly.

The house was dark. Still. Too quiet.

He walked upstairs… and heard it.

Tick… tick… tick…

A metronome.

Then Stephanie’s voice—no sweetness this time.

“Straighten your back. Don’t slack.”

And then Lily’s weak, trembling voice:

“Mom… I’m tired…”

Alexander stepped closer to the slightly open door of the family room. He looked through the gap—

—and the air left his lungs.

Lily was standing on a wooden block, balancing on one foot, a heavy dictionary on her head. Her tiny body shook violently, as if she might collapse at any second.

And the worst part?

This was only the beginning.

PART 2

Alexander slammed the door open so hard it echoed through the house.