My five-year-old daughter always bathed with my husband. They would stay in there for more than an hour every night. When I finally asked her what they were doing, she burst into tears and said, “Daddy says I can’t talk about games in the bath.”

“On the grounds that we have serious concerns about your behavior and your child’s safety.”

Sophie tightened her grip on me.

I held her closer.

Mark looked at me one last time.

And this time—

There was no smile.

Only anger.

Cold.

Controlled.

Dangerous.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

Because for the first time…

He wasn’t in control.

The officers moved in.

And everything he had carefully built—

Was starting to collapse.