Not so strong, now?

A red Maruti Swift screeched to a stop outside the police station. The doors swung open, and out stepped Harry Andersonand Lily Anderson, their expressions sharp with urgency.

Without a word, they marched inside. The fluorescent lights inside the station flickered slightly, casting a pale glow over the waiting area. There, Kate and Michael sat on a wooden bench, their faces filled with worry.

Lily knelt down in front of Michael, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Michael, what happened here? Why are you so far from home?" Her voice was calm, but there was an undertone of fear in it.

Michael looked down, hesitant. "Henry... got into a fight with a guy."

Kate, shifting uncomfortably, added, "His name is Liam."

Lily turned to face her. "And you are?"

Kate straightened her back. "I'm Kate, Henry's friend."

Lily gave her a once-over before nodding. "Nice to meet you, Kate. Do you know anything about this Liam?"

Kate hesitated before answering. "Liam Hayes. He and Henry don't get along. They fight a lot—everyone at school knows it. He's got a bad reputation."

Lily's lips pressed together. "I see."

Meanwhile, Harry walked straight to the front desk, his steps heavy, his face unreadable. He slammed his hands on the counter. "Where is my son?"

The police officer sitting behind the desk raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"

"His father. Henry Anderson."

The officer leaned back in his chair, eyeing Harry with a smirk. "Oh, so you're the father of that little delinquent?"

Harry's nostrils flared. His voice dropped into a dangerous growl. "I don't know what my son did, but don't you dare call him a delinquent." His eyes darkened. "He's not like other useless kids."

The officer let out a small laugh. "Relax, sir. Your son got into a fight. We checked his record—clean so far. We'll just give him a warning and let him go."

Harry didn't react. "Where is he?"

The officer pointed toward a small holding area in the back. "There."

Harry stormed across the room, his heavy footsteps echoing in the silence.

Henry sat on a wooden bench, his head down, hands curled into fists on his lap. His face was bruised, a cut on his lip still bleeding. The police had cleaned him up a little, but the damage was clear.

Harry stopped in front of him, arms crossed. His eyes scanned Henry, noting every injury.

A slow, dangerous voice. "Who did this to you?"

Henry didn't answer.

Harry's voice rose, sharp and furious. "I SAID, WHO THE FUCK DID THIS TO YOU?!"

Henry flinched, his body tensing up. His hands shook slightly as he whispered, "...a guy from my school."

Harry's jaw clenched. "What's his name?"

"...Liam Hayes."

Harry inhaled sharply, his grip tightening into fists. "And why were you fighting him?"

Henry swallowed hard. "He... He started it. He punched me first."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "And why the fuck were you and Michael so far from home? Huh?"

Henry's voice trembled. "Michael... wanted to go to the park..."

Harry's face twisted in disgust. "So let me get this straight. You took your little brother to a goddamn park, miles away from home, just so you could fight some lowlife piece of shit from your school? And who the fuck is this girl with you? A whore?"

Henry's head snapped up. "She's—she's not a whore."

Harry's lip curled. "Are you talking back to me?"

Henry shrank back. "N-no, I didn't mean—"

Harry took a step forward, his voice like ice. "Come on, big guy. You think you're strong, huh? Just because you got into one little fight? You think you're tough now?" His tone turned mocking. "You think you can talk back to **me**?"

Henry's entire body tensed. "Dad, I—I swear, I didn't mean—"

Harry grabbed Henry by the collar and yanked him up. "Let's go, then." His grip was iron, his fingers digging into Henry's shirt.

"Where are you taking him?" Lily's voice cut in as she rushed forward, Michael trailing behind her.

Harry didn't even look at her. "Shut the fuck up," he snapped.

Lily flinched, but said nothing.

Harry dragged Henry out of the police station, his grip vice-like. Kate sat frozen, her heart pounding. She wanted to say something, to **do** something. But she didn't move.

Outside, the night air was cold. The streetlights flickered dimly. Harry pulled Henry into a nearby alley, shoving him forward.

Henry stumbled, nearly falling. "D-Dad, please, I—"

**CRACK.**

The first punch slammed into Henry's face, knocking him backward. He barely had time to react before Harry's foot **smashed** into his stomach.

Henry crumpled, gasping.

Harry wasn't done. Another kick—this time to the ribs.

Then another.

And another.

Henry curled up, his arms barely able to protect himself.

Harry crouched down, grabbed Henry's hair, and yanked his head up. He spat on Henry's face. "Not so strong now, huh?"

Henry's vision blurred. His whole body screamed in pain.

Harry let go of him, watching as Henry collapsed onto the cold, filthy ground. He turned, walked back to the car, and opened the door.

"You're fucking pathetic," he muttered. Then he shoved Henry inside the car like he was nothing more than garbage.

Henry's body slumped against the seat. He didn't move.

Harry shut the door and walked back into the police station.

"Lily. Michael. We're leaving."

Lily, still holding Michael's hand, glanced toward the alleyway. She wanted to ask what had happened, but she already knew the answer.

She said nothing.

Michael looked at Kate, his expression unreadable.

Kate just sat there.

Frozen.