Guarding the Innocent

The months that followed their last joyful reunion with their mother felt like a blur to Sam and Lily. Their mother, who once made Saturdays feel like small escapes from their confined reality, suddenly stopped visiting. 

There were no more surprise park trips or whispered promises of future days together. The air around their father seemed different, darker, and the once innocent confusion that clouded Sam's mind began to harden into something colder.

It all started when their father sat them down one evening, his new wife sitting silently beside him. Sam, now ten, watched with narrowed eyes as his father cleared his throat, adopting the familiar tone he used when he wanted to sound reasonable but had something difficult to say.

"Your mother... she can't come see you anymore," their father began, his gaze flickering to Lily, Lily sat cross-legged on the floor, her wide, innocent eyes searching his face. 

"It's not her fault, really. She's just... busy with other things, and it's better this way for both of you."

Sam felt a jolt of anger bubble in his chest. Busy with other things? That didn't sound like the mother he knew. She wouldn't just disappear without a reason. 

He tried to read his father's face, but the man was an expert at wearing masks. Still, there was something in the way he avoided looking directly at them.

"But I miss her," Lily's soft voice cut through the tension. She glanced at Sam, her big, doe-like eyes brimming with tears. 

"Why can't she just visit on Saturdays? Just like before?" Lily asked.

Their father's expression hardened, and he shifted in his seat. "It's complicated, Lily. And I need you to understand that your mother isn't able to provide for you the way I can. She's... unstable."

Sam clenched his fists, the word hitting him like a punch to the gut. He didn't believe it. His mother was anything but unstable. 

He knew, deep down, something wasn't right, but what could he do? He was just a boy—too young to fight back, but too old to ignore the lies.

He forced himself to speak, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "So, what happens now?"

Their father's new wife, Emma, finally spoke, her tone cool and measured. "Now, we move forward. You'll stay here with us, and everything will be just fine. We'll be a family."

The word family felt bitter on Sam's tongue, like something foreign. This wasn't a family. This was a cage.

___

The tension between Sam and his father finally came to a head one evening, when Sam overheard a conversation that would shatter the fragile remnants of his trust. His father was on the phone, speaking in low, urgent tones.

"I don't care what she says," his father hissed. 

"The court has already granted me full custody. She doesn't deserve to see them. She's unstable, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep them away from her."

Sam's heart pounded in his chest as he listened from the hallway, his mind reeling. His father had lied. He had manipulated the system, filing false reports to ensure their mother would never be a part of their lives again.

"You lied to us," he spat, his voice trembling with fury. "You lied about everything." He stormed into the room, his fists clenched at his sides. 

"You don't understand, Sam. I did what I had to do to protect you." His father looked up, startled, but quickly recovered, his face twisting into a sneer. 

"Protect us? From what?" Sam shot back. "From our own mother? She never hurt us. You're the one who's hurting us!"

"Watch your tone, boy. I am your father, and I make the decisions around here." His father's eyes hardened, and he stood up, towering over Sam. 

Sam's heart pounded in his chest, but he refused to back down. "I don't care what you say. You're not protecting anyone but yourself."

His father stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before turning away. 

"You'll understand when you're older," he said coldly, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

But Sam knew better. He knew that his father had taken something precious from them—something they could never get back. 

And as he stood there, his body shaking with rage, he made a silent promise to himself: no matter what happened, he would never be like his father.

He would protect Lily, even if it meant keeping his distance. He would protect her from the lies, from the pain, from everything their father had done to tear their family apart.

Because, in the end, that was all he had left.

___

With passing time Sam was getting cold, heartless and violent in his behaviour. The reason Sam had grown so cold wasn't just because of the lies or the absence of their mother—it was because of the relentless pressure their father placed on him. 

From the moment Sam turned ten, his father's expectations had grown suffocating. He was expected to excel in school, to be perfect, to always perform at the highest level.

 Anything less than that was met with cold disappointment, or worse, violent punishment. Whenever Sam failed to meet his father's impossible standards—whether it was a bad grade or a slip in discipline—he would feel the sting of his father's anger, not just in words but in the hard, physical blows that followed. 

The bruises Sam carried weren't always visible, but they cut deep, leaving him feeling worthless and filled with self-loathing.

And as if his father's wrath wasn't enough, their stepmother added to the torment. Emma, their father's new wife, would constantly whisper venom into his father's ears, badmouthing Sam and Lily, making them out to be ungrateful or disobedient. 

 She played the perfect role of the supportive wife in public, but behind closed doors, she fueled the fire of their father's frustration. She would point out every flaw, every mistake, and use it to pit their father against them, slowly poisoning whatever fragile connection Sam and Lily still had with him. 

With each passing day, Sam felt more trapped, his emotions buried under the weight of fear, resentment, and the need to protect Lily at all costs.

____

Sam never forgot the promise he had made to his mother all those years ago—to always protect Lily, no matter what. No matter how distant or cold he had become, one thing remained constant: Lily was his world. He treated her like a little princess, shielding her from their father's temper and their stepmother's sharp, cutting words. 

Whenever things got hard, whenever the house felt like it was closing in on them, Sam was there. He became her protector, her guardian, and even though he didn't always show his feelings outwardly, Lily knew she could count on him.

It was her 14th birthday, a day that should have been filled with joy, but with their father and stepmother around, celebrations felt forced and hollow. Yet, Sam made sure this day was different.

That night, after the shallow festivities had ended and the house had gone quiet, Sam knocked on Lily's door and peeked inside. He was holding a small, neatly wrapped gift.

"Happy birthday, Lil," he said softly, a rare gentleness in his voice. "Hey," he said, his voice soft, "You didn't think I'd forget your real birthday present, did you?"

Lily smiled up at him from her bed, her eyes lighting up. "Sam, you didn't have to get me anything."

"I wanted to," he replied, walking over and sitting beside her. "Open it."

He watched as she opened the box, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the bracelet.

"Sam… it's beautiful," Lily whispered, her fingers tracing the bracelet, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, Sam."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and surprise. "You didn't have to…"

"I wanted to," Sam interrupted, his voice firm but warm. "You deserve something good, even if it's small." He smiled faintly, the closest thing to joy he allowed himself to feel. "You're growing up too fast."

Lily grinned, slipping the bracelet on. "I'll never take it off," she promised, her tone sincere.

Sam chuckled lightly, leaning back. "Just don't lose it, alright? It's not like I can replace it easily."

Lily giggled, then her expression softened. "You've always been there for me, Sam. Even when things got bad… you always made me feel safe."

His heart tightened at her words. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I promised Mom, remember?" His voice cracked slightly. "I'll always protect you. No matter what."

Sam smiled, a rare softness in his eyes. "You deserve it. I know things have been hard, but... I'll always be here for you, Lil. No matter what. Don't ever forget that."

Lily leaned in and hugged him tightly. "I know. You're the best brother in the world."

For a brief moment, Sam allowed himself to feel the warmth of the hug, the closeness he rarely let himself express. He pulled back, brushing her hair from her face. "Happy birthday, princess."

In that moment, despite everything—their father's cruelty, the stepmother's spiteful words, the weight of the years—they had each other. Sam had kept his promise. He always would.