What You Did to Our Daughter
The classified project I was working on wrapped up ahead of schedule, so I made sure to get back on my daughter's birthday.
When I walked in, a girl I had never seen before was wearing my daughter's princess dress, a crown perched on her head. She sat in front of a cake as tall as she was, eyes closed, making a wish.
I frowned and stepped closer.
"Who are you? Why are you wearing my daughter's dress? Where's Heidi?"
Before she could answer, two housemaids rushed out and started yelling at me.
"Where the hell did you come from? How dare you talk to our boss's daughter like that? If you know what's good for you, get out! When the boss gets back, you won't like what happens."
I stood there, confused. Boss? The boss's daughter? In this house, wasn't it just me and my daughter, Heidi Foster?
I barely had time to speak before they shoved me toward the front door.
In the middle of the pushing, something caught my eye.
Off to the side, chained to a pillar, was Heidi.
The girl I used to hold like she was the most precious thing in the world was now sprawled on the ground, digging through a dog bowl for food.
A thick iron chain was locked around her neck, and her body was covered in bruises.
My vision tightened.
"Heidi, what happened to you?"
The moment our eyes met, her hollow gaze filled with tears. She shrank back, then let out a soft bark at me, like a frightened dog.
The maids looked at her with open disgust.
One of them sneered, "Our boss said that that little thing was born to live like a dog. You have to keep her chained up if you want her to behave."