The look of shock and fear on my daughter’s face.

“Mom!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling as she scrambled to her feet and rushed into my arms.

I held her tightly, feeling a surge of protective instinct wash over me. But as I looked at Katie, standing there with the broom raised defensively, I realized that there was more to this situation than met the eye.

“What’s going on here?” I demanded, my voice sharp with concern.

Katie lowered the broom, her expression conflicted as she glanced between me and my daughter. “I… I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice wavering. “I didn’t mean to… It was an accident.”

I felt a knot form in my stomach as I tried to make sense of the situation. What had led to this confrontation between my daughter and her stepmother? And why had it escalated to the point where Katie felt the need to raise a broom in self-defense?

As my daughter buried her face against my shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks, I knew that I needed answers. But before I could speak, my ex-husband appeared in the doorway, his expression a mix of confusion and concern.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice tense as he took in the scene before him.

I looked at him, my heart heavy with worry for our daughter. “We need to talk,” I said, my voice trembling with emotion. “All of us.”