The sound of my quiet sobs must have caught my mom's attention. I heard the sharp click of her heels as she hurried toward me, her face full of concern.
“Rafael, sweetheart, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?” Her voice was soft, the warmth in her eyes making my chest ache. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m right here.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she reached for my hand. “Those animals,” she spat, her voice shaking with fury. “Don’t worry, Rafael, I’ve hired the best investigators. We’ll find out who did this and we’ll make them pay tenfold. I promise you.”
Anyone watching would have believed she loved me. Genuinely.
My sister ran the other way—looking frantic as she screamed for doctor. “Get the best painkillers! Don’t let my brother suffer another second!”
Their concern felt too real to be fake… yet I knew better. They had lied to me, betrayed me.
A dull ache spread through my chest and my vision blurred. My head spun and I felt like I might pass out.
The doctor pushed open the door, scissors in hand. He cut away my clothes, his fingers moving quickly and efficiently as he prepared the medication.
“Rafael,” my mom said gently, “you’re badly hurt. I’m worried that rushing the surgery could make things worse. Let’s wait until tomorrow when the top specialist arrives, okay?”
She smiled, brushing a hand through my hair. “Don’t be scared. I promise… I’ll make sure you get back on the court.”
A tear slipped down my cheek and I swallowed hard.
“Mom,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Will I really be able to play again?”
My mom froze for a second, her gaze shifting to the side.
She couldn’t look me in the eye.
After a long silence, my mom sighed. “Have I ever lied to you?”
This time, I was truly, completely disappointed.
“Alright,” I said softly, looking away. “Whatever you say.”
“You're such a good boy.” My mom smiled and ran her hand through my hair, her touch light and affectionate—like she thought that would make everything better.
But before she could finish, the doctor pulled out a pair of scissors and cut away my pant leg. The air in the room seemed to freeze when the bruises and burns on my leg were exposed. The skin was a patchwork of angry reds and purples, the wounds fresh and raw.
“Oh my God!” My mom gasped, her face twisting in horror as her hands flew to her mouth. “How… how could it get this bad?”
I forced myself to stay calm, keeping my voice flat even though I could feel the burn of rage beneath the surface. “Those thugs didn’t hold back,” I said, my jaw tightening. “They were competing to make me scream the loudest.”
My hands curled into fists.
“They beat me with sticks,” I said coldly. “Threw rocks at me. Pressed out their cigarettes on my skin. And when that wasn’t enough—they broke my arms.”
“Stop it!” Scarlet screamed, her hands clamping over her ears. “I can’t hear this anymore! They’re too savage.”
My mom’s eyes filled with tears, her hands trembling at her sides. The doctor shook his head in disbelief, muttering under his breath, “They’re monster.”
“Hang in there,” the doctor said, turning to me with a steady gaze. “This might hurt a bit.”
I shook my head slowly. “It’s fine.”
Because honestly, the pain in my body was nothing compared to the ache in my chest—the raw betrayal, the hollow, twisting feeling that came from knowing the two people I trusted most had broken me in ways that no amount of healing could fix.
