Chapter 1 - THE SOUND THAT ENDED CHRISTMASThe slap landed before I could pull Emma back.

For one terrible second, the entire Christmas dinner seemed to freeze around us.

The fireplace crackled. Christmas music played softly from the speakers. Silverware rested halfway between plates and mouths.

Then Emma screamed.

Not the ordinary cry of a tired six-month-old.

This was different.

It was sharp. Frightened. Almost breathless.

I pulled my daughter against my chest, feeling her tiny body tremble beneath the red reindeer onesie my mother had bought her.

Across from me, my sister Lauren stood with one hand still raised.

She didn't look horrified.

She looked annoyed.

"Oh my God, relax," she said. "It was a tap."

I stared at her.

"You hit my baby."

Lauren rolled her eyes.

"She wouldn't stop crying. Kids need to learn."

My mother, Margaret, lowered her eyes to her plate.

My father cleared his throat.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

Then my husband's chair scraped violently across the hardwood floor.

James stood.

Captain James Walker had spent nine months overseas. He had been home for only twelve days.

And now, for the first time since his return, I saw something in his eyes that frightened even me.

Not rage.

Control.

He looked at Lauren.

"Get out."

Lauren blinked.

"Excuse me?"

James didn't raise his voice.

"You struck my child. You will leave this house. Now."

Lauren gave a nervous laugh.

"This isn't your house."

James turned toward my father.

"Then her father can decide whether a woman who hits infants gets to stay for dessert."

Dad opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Lauren looked at Mom.

"Seriously? You're going to let him talk to me like this?"

Mom finally looked up.

"James, everyone is upset. Let's not ruin Christmas."

Something inside me cracked.

"Christmas was ruined when she hit Emma."

Mom's eyes flashed.

"Claire, don't be dramatic."

James stepped beside me.

"We're leaving."

Lauren smirked.

"Good. Take the screaming baby with you."

James picked up Emma's diaper bag.

He handed me my coat.

Then he looked at Lauren one last time.

"You will never touch my daughter again."

We walked toward the front door.

I didn't look back.

Then Dad spoke.

"Claire."

I stopped.

His voice had changed.

"Before you go, there's something you need to know about Lauren and Emma."

The room went silent again.

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