Family breakfast

Nadia and Karina return downstairs, and you sit down to eat. It is quiet. Nadia attempts some light-hearted conversation, but it falters. After only minutes, the girls finish eating. They quickly wash their dishes, then disappear upstairs without a word.

"What is wrong with them?" Nadia asks, a look of bewilderment on her face.

"Nadia," you begin. You motion to the seat beside you, and she moves closer. "Karina told me something this morning... She... she was ****."

You see the life drain from your wife's face, her eyes darkening, her jaw slackening.

"By Coach Smith. That's why she quit gymnastics. He fucking **** her."

Nadia's lips move, but no sound comes out. You recognize the sinking, horrible feeling that she is fighting right now. You grab her hand for support, gently rubbing your fingers across her palm.

"Nadia, he is going to pay for this. I'll fucking kill him. I'll filet his skin off with a razor blade if that's what it takes. He's dead. Fucking dead."

Your voice is harsh, angry. The roiling ocean of rage within you starts to stir, eager to break from its prison.

Nadia takes a deep breath. Another. Then, calmly, she says, "Call Ivan. He'll help you. Tell him what happened, and he'll help you."

You're surprised. You expected her to argue, to try to stop you. But you realize, why would she? Karina is her daughter too. Any parent would feel the way you both feel. Feel the hatred towards that revolting sack of shit for what he did to your little girl.

"Go," she says, her voice starting to break. "I will go and sit with the girls. Try to speak with Karina." You nod.

You stand from the table and rest your hand on her shoulder. She gives it a soft squeeze, then turns to meet your eyes. "Make him suffer." Her eyes are empty. A distant part of you wonders if yours are the same.

"He will," you answer. Then you're gone, out the front door, and towards the place where you know Ivan will be.

The Rice Room.