“Hello, Clara. How are you?”
“Mom…”
The voice on the other end was trembling and frantic.
“I… I told him.”
“What did he do? Did he do anything to you?”
“He… he…”
Clara’s words were cut off by a scream, followed by Julian’s furious roar.
“Who do you think you’re calling? Give me the phone.”
Then came the sound of something smashing, and the line went dead.
“Clara. Clara!”
I yelled desperately into the phone, but was met with only a cold, dead tone. My hands and feet went numb. Cold sweat dripped down my back.
I knew something had happened.
I redialed again and again, dozens of times, but no one answered. I imagined the horrifying scene unfolding in that condo, the scene I had witnessed once before. My son, the monster in human skin, was torturing his wife.
About half an hour later, my phone rang again. This time, it was from Julian’s number. I answered with a trembling hand.
“Hello, Mom.”
The voice on the other end was ice-cold, filled with rage and menace.
“What have you been telling her? Who gave you the right to incite my wife to cause trouble? Are you trying to tear my family apart?”
“Julian, what are you doing? You can’t hurt Clara.”
He let out a cold laugh.
“Hurt her? I’m just teaching my wife a lesson. I’ve given her a lesson she’ll never forget. Let’s see if she ever dares to mention divorce again.”
Then his voice turned cruel.
“And you—you listen to me. From this day on, I won’t let her take a single step out of this house, and she will never see you again. You just stay put in that retirement home.”
With that, he hung up.
I was stunned. The plan had failed at the most critical step. Not only had Clara not escaped, but she had been brutally beaten and was now being held captive. All contact was cut off.
She was in mortal danger.
I was truly panicked. I immediately dialed Mr. Lou’s number.
“Mr. Lou, Mr. Lou, something’s happened.”
My voice was shaking.
“My son, he found out. He hit the girl, and he’s locked her in the room. We have to do something. We have to get her out now.”
The fight for Clara’s freedom had entered its most difficult and dangerous phase. This was no longer a legal battle on paper, but a real-life rescue mission.
After that terrifying phone call with Julian, Mr. Lou and I took immediate action. We reported him to the police for domestic violence and unlawful imprisonment. With official intervention, my son was forced to open the door, and they rescued a terrified Clara, her body covered in fresh bruises.
She was taken to the hospital to have her injuries documented, and Mr. Lou arranged for her to stay in a safe, temporary location.
The plan was exposed. The war had moved from the shadows into the open.
I knew it was only a matter of time before Julian came looking for me. Sure enough, two days later, he appeared at the retirement community. He had lost his usual calm and composed demeanor, though still dressed in an expensive suit. His face was haggard, and his eyes were bloodshot from rage and lack of sleep.
He looked like a cornered animal.
He stormed up to me as I was reading in the garden, not even bothering with a greeting, his voice dripping with accusation.
“Mom, what are you doing? You’re this old, and you still want to stir up trouble? My family’s happiness. My happiness. How could you bear to destroy it with your own hands?”
I calmly closed my book and set it aside. The fear inside me was gone, replaced by a cold disappointment.
“Happiness?”
I looked him straight in the eye.
“You call the hell you created for Clara happiness? You call your fists and your insults happiness? Don’t you dare use that word. You don’t deserve it.”
“That’s my private family business,” he roared, causing a few people nearby to turn and stare. “I was teaching my wife a lesson. You have to keep a woman in her place, or she’ll get out of control and walk all over you. You’re a woman. You should have understood and taught your daughter-in-law her place. Instead, you incited her to make trouble.”
Hearing those words, I knew my son was beyond saving. His father’s toxic, misogynistic ideology had seeped deep into his bones, becoming even more twisted and cunning.
“You’re wrong, Julian.”
My tone was firm.
“Violence isn’t discipline. It’s a crime. Controlling and trampling on someone isn’t how you maintain happiness. It’s a sign of weakness and sickness. I have been silent for too long. If you can feel any remorse now, if you can recognize your mistakes and go ask for Clara’s forgiveness, maybe things can still be saved. Change before it’s too late.”
I gave him one last chance, a faint hope that some humanity remained in him, but he scoffed at it. He let out a bitter laugh.
