Mark’s van skidded down the driveway. He pulled up just short of hitting the garage and slammed the door, a sure sign that all hell was about to break loose. Vanessa was in the kitchen when he came barreling inside. She heard the clink of glass and immediately knew he had bottles of beer with him, jostling against each other in a box. He must have taken them from work again.

There was an electricity bill on the fridge, it had been there for a month and she had brought it up with him once, but he’d shut her down. It sat under a magnet of Wren’s tiny handprint, a present from her mom. It was past due and although she didn’t want to mention it to Mark again, especially when he was in this mood, she had to, or they’d be cut off. Again.

Mark took a beer from the small box, popped the cap and took a long pull. His eyes watched her and she felt small and afraid. He put down the beer on the table, no coaster underneath. There would be a ring on the surface now. He scowled at her. Now was not the time, but she went in anyway. ‘Mark…’ she began tentatively.

‘Don’t start with me, Vanessa, I’m not in the mood.’

She swallowed the apprehensive lump in her throat and pressed on regardless. ‘It’s just that the electricity bill is overdue, and I need money to pay for it.’

She’d expected the backhand but was still unable to move away fast enough. She fell against the table, which stuttered sideways with her weight. She rubbed her cheek where his slap had landed. It would bruise later; it always did.

‘Don’t speak to me!’ He roared at her, spit flying from his mouth. ‘All of this is because of you!’

She didn’t dare point out that he’d come on to her, seduced her, cheated with her all those months ago. It wasn’t worth the black eye. She could hear Wren screaming from his cot in the bedroom. She tried to run to him, to put herself out of Mark’s reach but as she bolted past him, he reached out and grabbed the end of her ponytail. She was able to pull free, tears springing into the corners of her eyes with the pain. She got to Wren’s room and slammed the door closed, bolting the lock that she’d installed using Mark’s own tools.

Vanessa hurriedly picked up the screaming, swaddled baby. She opened the large bedroom window, shushing Wren, and climbed through it. She took off at a fast walk to her parents’ house. She could still hear Mark screaming, the eerily silent night broken only by his yells.