Chapter 1

My husband Martin's childhood friend's daughter, Luna, lost all her hair from chemotherapy. That very night, he rushed home, grabbed the clippers, and was about to shave off our daughter Sophia's long hair.

"Luna will feel self-conscious without her hair. Your long hair is perfect for making her a wig," he said, staring at Sophia. "You're classmates. You should care for her."

I rushed forward to stop him, but his friends pinned me to a chair.

Sophia burst into terrified sobs. Martin threatened her. "If you don't let me shave your hair, your mom's gonna get beaten."

Just as he finished, someone smashed a beer bottle over my head. Warm blood streamed into my eyes, and all I could hear was this awful ringing in my ears.

In the end, Sophia was left with bald patches all over her scalp.

Luna waved her phone, hopping up and down as she taunted, "Sophia looks like a freak now. I'll have everyone in the class chat see this."

Sophia desperately lunged for the phone with tears, but Martin shoved her hard. She hit her forehead on the table corner and blacked out on the spot.

"Seriously? It's just some hair. Are you really going to make such a fuss? It'll grow back. Stop being so dramatic," Martin scoffed.

Whenever Sophia wanted to dress up as Princess Elsa, Martin would always hold her long hair in his hands, gaze at it for a long while, and start brushing it.

But now, he'd torn our family apart with his own hands. Thus, I took Sophia and left our so-called home.

Later, he ended up kneeling outside in the pouring rain for three days and nights, begging just to see us one more time—but he only got a restraining order from the court.

*****

I could only watch helplessly as Martin mercilessly shaved off all of Sophia's long hair right before my eyes.

He didn't care one bit about how she looked, hacking away at her hair with brutal force. In moments, it was a chaotic mess—patches of scalp showing, some smeared with streaks of blood.

Sophia bit her lip and fought back tears. When she took out her small mirror and saw the jagged, patchy mess on her head, she finally broke down, wailing uncontrollably.

I tried to comfort her, but the people behind me pinned me down, leaving me utterly powerless.

Luna waved her phone at Sophia, jumping around and shrieking, "Sophia, you seriously look like a crazy toad. I'm totally posting this to the class group chat—everyone's gonna see."

Sophia, sobbing and desperate, leapt at Luna to grab the phone. "Give it back! Give—"

But before Sophia could finish, Martin lashed out with a vicious kick right at her.

Sophia was knocked clear across the room, her forehead smashed against the table corner. Blood burst out, spilling down her face as it mingled with her tears.

"Seriously, what's the drama about cutting your hair? It's not gone forever! Luna's going through enough. Why can't you just help her out?" Martin said, his voice tinged with irritation.

Sophia gave Martin a lost, bewildered look. Just days ago, he was the gentle dad who'd always caressed her hair, but now, he was someone terrifying.

The next moment, her head drooped, and she passed out cold.

"Sophia!" I thrashed wildly, close to breaking free, even with all those men trying to pin me down.

My nails dug so deep into my palms as I screamed hysterically, "Martin Turner!"

Today was Sophia's birthday. Just half an hour ago, she'd closed her eyes and made a wish over her birthday candles, whispering, "I hope Dad will come back and celebrate with me."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Martin stormed in with Helen and Luna in tow, along with a gang of his friends.

Sophia dashed toward Martin, calling, "Dad!". However, Martin pushed her away without a second glance.

Before I could even react, those guys had me pinned down.

Martin snatched up the clippers and—while Sophia wailed and begged—he ruthlessly buzzed off every last strand of her treasured long hair.

"Dude, your wife is seriously overreacting. It's just shaving off Sophia's hair. Does she really have to go nuts over it?" one of his buddies sneered.

"Luna's way more grown-up than Sophia. She's been fighting cancer without a word, while Sophia's just such a crybaby. Guess she takes after her mom," another mocked.

Martin scowled, impatient. "Stop it already. Luna's allergic to those store-bought wigs. Sophia's got tons of hair—what's so wrong about making a wig for Luna from it?"

My lips quivered as I demanded, "Martin Turner, just tell me—was this your idea, or Helen's?"

Helen stepped in front of Martin, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Grace, it was all my fault. If you want to blame someone, blame me. Martin was only trying to help me."

"It was my idea," Martin said firmly, yanking Helen behind him.

"Helen and I grew up together, and she's family to me. Luna is just like my daughter," he declared.

I let out a laugh—that kind that was more pain than anything else.

Sophia was born early, and her tiny breaths barely made the monitors blink in the incubator. I was sobbing and falling apart, and Martin just pulled me close, promising he'd protect us forever and give Sophia the whole world.

And he really did, right up until Helen showed up...

But now, all that was left for me was this crushing helplessness.

I fought to keep my voice steady, barely holding myself together. "Martin, let's get a divorce."