He didn’t touch his wife anymore. Barely looked at her.
But he kissed Clarabelle’s forehead every night. Sometimes her hands. Once — her shoulder.
Mommy saw. Always.
And so she planned.
One night, she waited. Waited until the lights in Clarabelle’s room dimmed, until Daddy’s door closed, until the whole house held its breath.
She slipped into Clarabelle’s room.
“Wake up,” she hissed, pulling back the covers.
Clarabelle blinked, annoyed but not afraid. “If you’re here to slap me again, at least let me brush my hair first.”
Mommy grabbed her by the wrist. “You’ve ruined everything.”
Clarabelle smiled. “No. I fixed it.”
“You think he loves you?” Mommy’s voice cracked. “You think he’d choose you if he really saw you for what you are?”
“He already has,” Clarabelle whispered. “And you know what? He prefers me this way.”
Mommy screamed.
It was raw, animal. She raised her hand — ready to leave more than a bruise this time —
but the door opened.
Daddy stood there.
Robe hanging loose. Eyes sharp. Silent.
Clarabelle turned, her expression innocent. “She came into my room again.”
He didn’t speak. He just walked forward, took Clarabelle’s hand, and pulled her behind him.
“Out,” he said to Mommy.
“You can’t be serious,” she whispered.
“I said. Out.”
Mommy’s hands shook. Her lip curled. She looked from him to the girl behind him — this little witch in silk, smiling with her eyes.
“You’re both sick,” she spat. “You deserve each other.”
Clarabelle leaned her head around Daddy’s arm and said softly,
“We know.”
And Mommy left.
She packed a bag and slammed the door, but neither of them stopped her. Neither of them followed. She was screaming into silence — and they were already somewhere deeper. Somewhere she could never reach.
By morning, the house was quiet again.
Clarabelle padded barefoot into the kitchen. Daddy was already there, sipping coffee, reading something in the paper like nothing had changed.
She climbed onto his lap.
“Morning, angel,” he said, kissing her temple.
She smiled.
Mommy was gone.
And Clarabelle had everything.