My husband hammered a nail into our 7-year-old daughter’s foot to force her to study instead of running, ignoring her bloody screams. When my father burst in to save her, my husband brutally smashed the heavy hammer into his head, leaving him bleeding on the floor.

I looked at my daughter.

She was staring at the floor, her small fingers wrapped tightly around mine.

“Yes,” I answered. “My husband was forcing her to study. When she tried to get up, he used that hammer.”

The officer’s expression hardened.

“Did you see him strike her?”

“Yes.”

“And did you see him strike your father?”

I swallowed.

“Yes. My father was trying to protect her.”

The officer nodded and asked another question.

“Did your husband try to prevent you from calling for help?”

“He knocked my phone out of my hand. Then he told me to say my father attacked him.”

The officer exchanged a glance with his partner.

“Thank you. Please don’t clean anything in that room or move any objects. Our investigators will document the scene.”

My husband suddenly raised his voice.

“She is lying!”

My daughter flinched.

That tiny reaction told the officer more than my husband realized.