My dad walked up behind me. “You look miserable, Danny. Maybe if you tried being more feminine growing up, you wouldn’t have ended up a single mother.”

This was their sport: psychological hunting.

I told Haley, “Go sit by the edge and watch the water. I’ll fix you a plate.”

I turned away for 5 seconds. Just 5 seconds.

When I turned back, Rachel was behind Haley. And she shoved her straight into the deep end of the pool. Fully clothed—jeans, hoodie, socks, everything.

My scream didn’t even sound like a scream. It was primal. I ran toward the pool. Haley was sinking. Her hair spread like black ink underwater. She wasn’t coming up fast. She was eight. She was panicking.

I tried to jump in, but my dad grabbed me from behind, pinning me backward.

“Stop!” my dad yelled into my ear. “She needs to learn! If she can’t survive water, she doesn’t deserve life!”

I clawed at his arm with everything I had. My body was shaking with pure terror. I was screaming Haley’s name like my lungs were ripping apart.