The rest of the drive was silent, and I saw Thomas resting his eyes. Hoping for him to sleep deeply enough so that I could leave him in the car, and sleep on my own, and that Jude would really get away with whatever he did with that girl, holding her aggressively but also close to him, I was left disappointed.
The moment the car arrived, he snapped his eyes open, again the stony features on his cold face, as if our earlier conversation and the pleading as well as the relief he had shown had all been a lie.
I asked myself if I had misunderstood something, and have made everything only worse when the door beside me was opened by the driver. Stepping out, I saw the two men do the same.
"To my office." Thomas spoke resolutely and walked into the house, ignoring my presence.
Stunned, I watched Jude turn around to me, before curling his mouth into a half smile, which worried me as much as his father's expression. I followed slowly behind the two and decided to go and listen in.
My favorite little Nosemaid greeted me, and after I made sure that nobody else was around, the two were already going upstairs, already out of earshot, I slid a golden ring into her palm,
"I want to eavesdrop on my husband punishing my son. In your hand, you hold a bribe. Now go away."
I hadn't thought that it would really work on her, but maybe my plan to eavesdrop didn't faze her because she had done the same just a while ago. Happy with her bribe, she walked away while I went to the second floor, pressing my ear against the door. No servant was on the floor, maybe because it was late, whatever, it only helped me.
But, it seemed it wasn't necessary to be so close, I could hear the whipping easily just by standing in this corridor. My hand immediately jumped to the doorknob, but I froze, scared of the consequences. Not only for me, but if this was a typical practice in this house, there was no way my arrival would change anything for the better.
Can I get this child out of this house somehow?
A strike echoed, but there was no crying or screaming on either side.
What if I call the police at this moment? Can they act in the face of a powerful family, a father that would surely answer with something nonsensical like 'he was just disciplining his son'?
Another strike.
What if I still go inside, throw myself on Jude, and scream and cry for him to let my son go, like in the soaps? Will that stop it? Or will the whip strike me?
Another strike.
But I am small and wouldn't overcome a strike as easily, as someone with Jude's body built.
Another strike.
But I am older, and as his teacher, it is my responsibility to protect my student, and additionally...the one that is suffering pain is a child—at least only a young adult.
Another strike.
I was ready to storm the office when Jude's eyes back then on the staircase came to my mind. When I asked Thomas how his day had been, diverting the strange atmosphere that had settled between father and son. It was the same look he had today when grabbed by the neck, and the same look he had just now when turning around on his way to the villa.
Another strike.
He didn't want to be seen by me in a situation like this. That was his wish. Additionally, if Jude really wanted to fight back, he could do so easily, his body was much stronger than Thomas', and he was also taller.
Yet another strike.
My hand fell, and I turned around. Slowly going down the long corridor amidst the further sounds of domestic violence that echoed through the hall, hitting me as well, every time anew.
Domestic violence cases aren't prevented by one or two times stepping in, the problem has to be cut at the root. Jude was an adult, and he had to step up for himself. If he didn't want to fight back, he could move out and disappear from his father's eyes.
Additionally, he doesn't seem to lack cash, and with his father's dislike, I bet he would approve of him finding a new home near, to finish school and then go his way.
But even if that all is not the case, there is no reason for me to risk my life for two psychopaths. If Jude can set a student on fire sneakily, he can do the same with his father.
While thinking so, my feet still stopped in front of Jude's room door. Opening it, I entered, and in here, it smelled like him.
I walked to the desk that was on the right side of the big bed, which was in the middle of the room, between the two windows. The desk was moved against the wall, and still, there was a hodgepodge of stuff scattered. There was no way he could do his homework on a chaotic desk like this.
Moving the chair aside, I climbed inside, pulling the chair back to cover me.
Like this, I felt finally safe and emptied my dress pockets. It wasn't easy while sitting with my knees clasped against my chest and on the floor. Reaching for my new treasures, I held them in my hands. I liked how the gold felt, it was a good family heirloom.
While gripping my loot, I put my head against my knees, welcoming the darkness and hating myself for being a failure of an adult and a teacher.
Why was I even here right now, in his room, hiding under his desk while he was the one getting whipped?
Like bewitched, I played with my treasures, waiting for Jude to come. It seemed I had my answer; I was here because I hoped to see him as soon as possible and take a look at his wounds, take care of him.
But even if he comes, I don't want to go out from under the desk every again.
"Grandma, it's scary here."