Chapter 226

Brian's POV

The moment the door closed behind Philip, the burning sensation on my right cheek finally erupted in full force. I tasted something metallic-damn,

I'd bitten my tongue. My ear was buzzing as if a tiny generator was running wild inside it.

Interestingly, I wasn't even particularly surprised when he hit me. Isn't this just how adults' world works? When they can't control you with words,they resort to violence.

I didn't cry. No, Brian Baker never cries. A five-year-old child would cry,but I stopped being an ordinary five-year-old long ago. Not fromthe moment Philip struck me, not from the day Mom abandoned me, but from the instant Sarah used me as a tool to hurt Mom.

I picked up my phone and dialed 911 without hesitation. I didn't even consider the consequences, didn't think about how Philip might retaliate,didn't worry about betraying "family"-if such a thing even existed.

When the 911 operator's voice came through, I realized my hand was shaking. I had never truly stood up to Philip before, always obedient,always yielding, just as he had trained me to be. But today,that thread had snapped.

"My dad hit me," I heard my own voice, eerily calm, "I'm only five years old."

Those words acted like some kind of spell. I could feel the attitude on the other end of the line change immediately. In adults' eyes, children are fragile objects, even though they know perfectly well that this world hurts

us day after day.

"Brian?" Grandma's voice came from behind me, making my heart skip a beat. I turned to face her, no longer hiding the mark on my face.

Her expression transformed from confusion to shock to anger in half a second. I thought she would scold me for calling the police without permission. but she just wrapped her arms tightly around me. She smelled of familiar lavender.

"I called the police," I whispered against her shoulder, a strangesense of guilt spreading through me.

"You did the right thing," she said softly, her voice slightly trembling,"Absolutely right."

I leaned into her embrace, an unprecedented exhaustion washing over me.Why did I always feel safe with her? Why was she the only one who could make me briefly forget that I needed to be constantly on guard?

But I couldn't indulge in this comfort for too long. My "gift" had only just been unwrapped-the first layer of packaging.

Police sirens cut through the night, and I knew they had arrived. The knocking on the door followed immediately, and Grandma got up to answer. Two police officers entered-one tall man and one round-faced female officer. The round-faced officer noticed my face immediately,kneeling down to my level.

"Hi, I'm Officer Kate," her voice was gentle, "Can you tell me what happened?"

I studied her expression, knowing exactly how to present myself-a well-behaved but injured child, enough to evoke sympathy without appearing

weak.

"Philip hit me," I said, my voice slightly trembling but my eyes steady,"because his girlfriend Sarah said I encouraged her to get an abortion. But I've never even spoken to her about it. I'm only five years old, how would I know about these things?"

The tall officer asked if there was any evidence. I pointed to the surveillance camera in the corner, watching as they checked the footage,their expressions shifting from professional calm to anger. Whenever I saw adults angry on my behalf, I felt a strange satisfaction.

"My right ear doesn't hear very well," I said softly, deliberately touching my ear and then wincing from the "pain," "It feels like something's buzzing inside."

The round-faced officer's expression softened even more. "We need to take you to the hospital for an examination."

She turned to Grandma: "As Brian's guardian, we need your consent."

Grandma nodded without hesitation. On the way to the hospital, I sat in the back of the police car, watching New York's night scenery through the window. The flickering lights resembled fragments of the plan forming in my mind.

The hospital lights were sickeningly bright. The doctor's examination was more complex than I had anticipated. He frowned as he told Grandma that my eardrum had been traumatized, and without proper care,it could lead to permanent hearing damage.

I watched Grandma's face turn pale and felt a pang of guilt. I had dragged her into this storm when she should be enjoying her golden years. But I

had no choice-this was my only opportunity.

Every time I felt weak or hesitant, the buzzing in my ear reminded me of Philip's slap. He hit me because of Sarah's lies. Sarah lied because she wanted Philip's mnoney. And Philip-he never truly considered me his son.did he?

"We will arrest Philip Baker immediately." the tall officer told Grandma,"Considering the severity of the injury and the fact that the victim is a minor. this is a serious offense."

The round-faced officer recorded the doctor's diagnosis and took photos for documentation. "These will all serve as important evidence."

When the officers mentioned arresting Philip, I felt an odd sense of relief.But I didn't just want him arrested-I wanted complete destruction.I remembered meeting one of Phílip's competitors at a business dinner who had given me his card, saying I could contact him if I ever needed help.

While Grandma and the officers dliscussed the next steps, I discreetly took out my phone and sent a text: "Philip Baker arrested for dlomestic violence.Confirmed with video evidence and medical reports."

No signature, no requests, just cold facts. He would understand the value of this information-Wall Street people would do anything to bring down their competitors. I'd known that since I was little.

Officer Kate returned to my side: "Brian, you're very brave. Given your age and injuries, we can arrange for you to rest before giving a detailed statement. We're going to arrest your father now."

I nodded, suddenly struck with an idea: "Where are you going to arrest him?"

"At his residence," she answered, "We've confirmed the address."

I asked, trying to sound casual: "Is it the apartment building in the Upper East Side?"

She nodded: "That's right. Don't worry, he won't hurt you again."

I gave a slight smile, my mind already calculating. I needed to see Philip being arrested with my own eyes, needed to confirm this wasn't just empty words from the police.

When we left the hospital, Mitchell was already waiting for us outside. He was a good man who never asked too many questions and was always gentle with me. Seeing the injury on my face, a flash of anger crossed his eyes but quickly disappeared.

"Where to, Mrs. Miller?" he asked Grandma.

Grandma tiredly rubbed her temples: "Home, Brian needs to rest."

"Mitchell," I suddenly spoke up, "can we go to Philip's apartment?"

Mitchell looked at me in surprise, then at Grandma: "Mrs. Miller?"

Grandma frowned in confusion: "Brian, it's already late, you need to rest..."

"Just for a little while," I said softly, hating that I sounded like a child begging for candy, "I need to see it with my own eyes. Please,Grandma."

Grandma hesitated, and I knew what she was thinking. A normal child would want to get away from the person who hurt them, not actively seek to approach them. But I wasn't a normal child, never had been. I was Annie's child.

"Ten minutes," Grandma finally said, "not a minute more."