She freezes for a second before continuing cutting the onions. Muffled sounds ring behind her as she let the blade sink in the young skin of the onions – part by part, it strips away from its own body without traces of blood.
Another vase breaks as it hits the floor. Her lungs constrict as her daughter’s cries reach her ears, but she does not turn to catch a glimpse. A smack sounds and she knows Roger hurts Maisie, again. Perhaps the sun of the Monday morning blinds her eyes.
At last, she hears a grunt from Roger before a handful of gasps follows.
Even when her tears rush to her cheeks, she cuts the onions until its last juices drip.
WORD COUNT: 120
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