Ficorpio
Chapter 1
My mother was slapped six times by Aunt Victoria in front of everyone.
She was humiliated in the middle of the family dinner.
My father stood beside her and stayed silent for two seconds.
For those two seconds, no one dared make a sound.
Then he did something none of us expected.
Slowly, he lifted his wrist, removed the Patek Philippe watch worth nearly two million dollars, and held it out to my mother.
His voice was calm, but cold as a blade in winter.
“Clara,” he said, “we’re leaving this family.”
The entire Sterling family froze.
The first slap landed across my mother’s face with a crack.
It was loud.
The whole private banquet room went silent.
My father’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth.
I stared at my aunt, Victoria Sterling.
Her hand was still raised high.
“Clara Sterling, today I’m going to teach you some manners.”
Her voice was sharp and piercing.
“At a Sterling family table, no one eats before the elders begin.”
“That first slap was to teach you respect.”
The words had barely left her mouth before the second slap fell.
Crack.
Even louder than the first.
My mother’s cheek flushed red in an instant.
She covered her face, her whole body trembling.
“That second one was to teach you what filial duty means.”
Aunt Victoria stepped closer.
“It’s Mom’s seventieth birthday. You’re the eldest daughter-in-law, and this is the place you booked?”
“The room is cramped, the food goes cold too fast—what exactly were you thinking?”
Crack.
The third slap.
Tears welled in my mother’s eyes.
But she didn’t make a sound.
“That third one was to teach you how to be a wife.”
“My brother works himself to the bone out there, while you sit at home enjoying the good life.”
“You can’t even arrange a birthday dinner properly. What use are you?”
Crack.
The fourth slap.
Grandmother sat at the head of the table.
She held her teacup, gently blowing across the steam.
She didn’t even glance at my mother.
As if the woman being beaten wasn’t her daughter-in-law.
As if she were some irrelevant object.
“That fifth one was to teach you how to conduct yourself as a woman.”
“You’ve been married into the Sterling family for twenty years and couldn’t even give us a son.”
“How do you answer to the Sterling ancestors?”
Crack.
The fifth slap.
The corner of my mother’s mouth split.
Blood seeped out.
I shot to my feet.
My chair crashed backward with a violent bang.
“What gives you the right to hit my mom?” I shouted at Aunt Victoria.
She gave a cold laugh and looked at me.
“Who gave you permission to speak?”
“Adults are talking. Children stay out of it.”
“No upbringing at all.”
As she spoke, she raised her hand again.
The sixth slap landed squarely on my mother’s face.
Crack.
“That sixth one was on behalf of my brother.”
Chapter 2
“You can’t even raise a daughter properly. All she knows how to do is talk back.”
The banquet room fell into a deathly silence.
Every relative lowered their head.
Eating.
Drinking tea.
No one looked at us.
No one said a word.
I stared hard at my father.
Henry Sterling.
My father.
He was sitting right beside my mother.
From the moment the first slap rang out, he hadn’t moved.
He sat there like a statue carved from stone.
Aunt Victoria had finished.
She drew back her hand and smoothed her sleeve.
Her expression was smug.
Her eyes were full of contempt.
She turned to my father.
“Henry, a woman like this needs to be taught a lesson.”
“You can’t just let it go.”
“If you do, she’ll start thinking she runs this family.”
My father still didn’t move.
Time seemed to freeze.
One second.
Two seconds.
Those two seconds felt as long as a century.
I felt as if my own heartbeat had stopped.
Despair.
A crushing, suffocating despair.
I thought he would do what he had done countless times before.
Say, “Forget it.”
Or, “Victoria, don’t be like that.”
Then ask my mother to endure it.
But after two seconds, he moved.
He didn’t look at Aunt Victoria.
He didn’t look at any of the relatives around the table.
His gaze fell on my mother’s face.
Slowly, he lifted his left wrist.
Everyone’s eyes followed the motion.
It was a watch.
A Patek Philippe.
I didn’t know the exact model.
All I knew was that Aunt Victoria had once said, with a sour edge to her voice, that the watch could buy two large luxury condos back in our hometown county.
Almost two million dollars.
My father’s fingers were steady.
He undid the clasp.
He didn’t hurry. If anything, he moved a little slowly.
The metal bracelet made a faint rasping sound.
In the dead-silent banquet room, it was unbearably clear.
He removed the watch from his wrist completely.
Then he held it out in front of my mother.
My mother froze.
Still covering her swollen, reddened face, she stared at the watch.
Her eyes were full of tears.
And confusion.
The entire family was stunned.
The smugness on Aunt Victoria’s face stiffened.
Even Grandmother set down her teacup, her brows drawing together.
Then my father spoke.
His voice was very calm.
There was no rage in it. No excitement.
Only a coldness like ice in the dead of winter.
“Clara,” he said.
“We’re leaving this family.”
One sentence.
Everyone in the private banquet room turned to stone.
Aunt Victoria’s mouth fell open in a perfect O, wide enough to fit an egg. Grandmother’s hand froze in midair, the wrinkles on her face twisting together.
“Henry, have you lost your mind?” she cried.
Dad ignored her.
His eyes were only on Mom.
Chapter 3
The watch in his hand remained lifted, steady and solemn, as if this were some kind of ceremony.
Mom looked at him, and her tears came harder. Her lips trembled. She seemed to want to say something, but no sound came out.
“Take it,” Dad said again.
His tone left no room for refusal.
Mom reached out, hesitant. Her fingers brushed the cold metal.
Then she took the watch.
It was heavy.
So heavy her hand sank under its weight.
Dad stood.
He was tall, and when he rose, his chair slid back with a soft scrape. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over Mom’s shoulders, covering the thin line of them as she shook.
Then he turned to me.
“Grace. We’re going.”
I went to his side at once.
“Henry! What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Aunt Victoria finally snapped out of it and shrieked. “It’s Mom’s seventieth birthday, and you’re just leaving?”
“What are people going to think of the Sterling family?”
“For an outsider, you’re abandoning your own mother?”
Dad finally looked back at her.
That look held no warmth at all.
It was like he was looking at a stranger.
“She is not an outsider,” Dad said.
“She is my wife.”
“She is the mother of my child.”
“She is my family.”
“From today on, you’re the outsiders.”
With that, he took Mom’s hand.
Mom was still stunned and let him lead her. I followed close behind them.
The three of us walked toward the door of the banquet room.
“Outrageous! Absolutely outrageous!” Grandmother struck the floor hard with her cane, each blow landing with a dull thud. “Henry Sterling! If you dare walk out that door today—”
“Then I no longer have a son!”
Dad’s steps paused.
Only for a second.
He did not turn around.
He pulled open the heavy wooden door of the banquet room.
Light spilled in from outside, bright enough to sting.
“Stop right there!”
Aunt Victoria rushed over, trying to block us. She reached for Dad’s arm.
Dad merely shifted to the side.
Her hand grabbed empty air, and she nearly stumbled.
“Henry, you can’t leave!”
“If you leave, what is Mom supposed to do?”
“What happens to this family?”
There was a thread of panic in her voice now.
Dad stopped and turned.
He looked at Aunt Victoria, and then at every person in that room.
His voice wasn’t loud.
But every word landed clearly.
“This family?”
The corner of his mouth curved in a way I couldn’t quite read.
“From today on, this family has nothing to do with me.”
“What you owe me, I don’t want anymore.”
“What I owed you, I’ve already repaid.”
He supported Mom and walked out without looking back.
I hurried after them.