THE LIFE I MADE FOR MYSELF

As we drove up to the house, I could see my stepmother standing outside, dressed to the nines. She looked like she was about to go out, but when she saw my uncle, her expression changed to one of shock and surprise.

"Jude?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but I could hear the underlying tension in her voice.

"Yes?" my uncle replied, his voice firm and authoritative. "Are you so surprised to see me?"

My stepmother tried to smile, but it was a fake, forced smile. "Of course, I am. Where have you been?" she asked, trying to sound concerned, but I knew she was just pretending.

My uncle wasn't having it. "Spare me that bullshit, Kate," he said, his face red with anger. "I'm not here to play games with you."

My stepmother's smile faltered, and she looked at me, trying to use me as a distraction. "Bel, darling, you didn't tell me that your uncle was back?" she asked, trying to sound innocent, but I knew she was just trying to deflect attention from herself.

My uncle wasn't having it. "Kate, I'm going to ask you a question, and you're going to answer me," he said, his voice firm and commanding. "Why are you so wicked and heartless? Look at what you've done to your husband's daughter. How could you be this inhuman to a little girl?"

My stepmother tried to brush it off, but my uncle wasn't having it. "Come on, Jude, let's go inside. Don't cause a scene," she said, trying to sound calm, but I could hear the panic in her voice.

But my uncle wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily. "Then tell me, what are all these old and new scars on her body?" he asked, his voice rising in anger.

My stepmother tried to lie, but my uncle wasn't having it. "Self-harm," she said, trying to sound convincing, but I knew she was just trying to cover her tracks.

My uncle laughed, a cold, hard laugh. "Really?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then tell me, why are there so many scars on her body? Why is she so thin and pale?"

My stepmother tried to defend herself, but my uncle wasn't having it. "I will make sure that you rot in jail, Kate," he said, his voice firm and commanding. "Mark my words, people will know what kind of woman you are. By the mention of your name, people will spit out saliva."

My stepmother sneered, trying to sound confident, but I could see the fear in her eyes. "See, Jude, you're just like a wounded lion. Gather your evidence first, and I assure you that you will not see any. This is my game, Jude, and you can't beat me."

My uncle's face turned red with anger, and he took a step closer to my stepmother. "Game?" he repeated, his voice rising in outrage. "Do you call abusing a kid a game?"

My stepmother just laughed, a cold, hard laugh. "Yes, haha, she is an obstacle to my achievements. I need to be true to you, no more pretending, because I can see that your niece has narrated all the stories to you."

My uncle's face turned white with rage, and he took a step back, his eyes blazing with anger. "Are you even human?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

My stepmother just smiled, a cold, hard smile. "Yes, I am. Loving one, for that matter. I will take over everything that your brother owns. Anyone who is stopping me will be removed from the way."

My uncle laughed, a cold, hard laugh. "Hahaha. Do you know why I'm laughing? I thought you were smart. No matter how many shares you buy, you can't take over because the only shares that you will see are twenty percent."

My stepmother's face turned red with rage, and she took a step forward, her eyes blazing with anger. "Lies!!! You lie, Jude," she spat, her voice venomous.

My uncle just smiled, a cold, hard smile. "You will hear from my lawyer," he said, his voice firm and commanding.

My stepmother sneered, trying to sound confident, but I could see the fear in her eyes. "Bring it on, Jude," she said, trying to sound brave, but I knew with my uncle she wouldn't do anything to me.

The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity. It was only a few minutes away, but the silence in the car made it feel like hours. My uncle's grip on the steering wheel was so tight, I thought he might squeeze the life out of it. I pitied the steering wheel, wondering if it could feel the tension and anger emanating from my uncle's hands.

The only sound in the car was the soft hum of the engine, and the occasional glance my uncle gave me. I could see the guilt and self-blame written all over his face. I knew he was thinking about how he could have prevented all this, how he could have protected me from my stepmother's abuse.

I reached out and gently touched his lap, trying to get his attention. He looked at me, and for a moment, our eyes locked. He gave me a weak smile, and I could see the pain and regret in his eyes.

"It's not your fault, Uncle," I said, trying to reassure him. "Please, stop blaming yourself."

He looked away, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "But look at you, Princess," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.