The dreaded long weekend is here. The week I promised to visit home. My father has been calling almost everyday, telling me he has a surprise for both my mum and I. 

His excitement only fills me with worry. 

The bus drops me off at the row of restaurants on the other side of the park, where the bushes are well kept and the trees are trimmed. I take a slow walk, trying to buy myself time before I reach our flat. 

I walk past Luke's house, my gaze lingering on his front porch. If I didn't know any better I'd say that was his Ford parked in the driveway. My cheeks flush as I remember how close we were in his room, the feel of his touch on mine and the intensity of his gaze. 

I wonder what he's doing right now. Is he playing some form of hockey with Indica on the field behind his house or helping his father with some chore? 

Elizabeth's house is next but the driveway is empty. I know she's staying with her cousins this weekend, her parents must have gone there as well. Ever since this whole Zander debacle, I feel like we've barely spent any time together. 

A wave of guilt washes over me when I remember how I lied to her about Zander just last night and Daphne telling me she didn't like who I was becoming. 

But then I remember that Zander's the reason why she had to drop out to begin with. He's the reason she's not here. 

The park is relatively empty at this time of day when I walk on the winding foot paths. There is one kid playing on the slide with a parent standing nearby, eyes glued to her phone as her child calls out for her attention. 

I keep my head down and walk swiftly till I reach the run down building that leads to my flat. Might as well get the horror over with. There's only so much I can delay. 

The smell of pancakes hit me the moment I walk into the living room. I see my mum busying herself in the kitchen and my father lounging on the sofa, watching a commercial about losing weight. 

He jumps up when he sees me and rushes over for a hug. 

My body tightens like a coil, wound up so tight when his hand goes around my shoulder. I keep thinking he's going to slap me but he lets go, his expression one of pure happiness. 

"There she is, my special girl." 

I swallow hard, not liking those words at all. He's only ever this nice when he wants something. 

"Hi dear," Mum coos from the kitchen and I take the opportunity to rush over to her, slipping out of my father's grasp quickly. 

She pulls me into a hug  and I try not to think about how she feels thinner than ever.  

I wrap my arms around her waist and hug her back tightly. "Missed you, ma." 

She kisses my head lightly and lets me hug her while she flips over a pancake. "You're just in time for breakfast. Come on, lay the table." 

I do as she says, putting out the mats and placing the maple syrup by our plates. Dad pops open a beer and takes a large gulp, despite it only being eleven in the morning. 

He takes a seat at the head of the table while my mum and I sit on either side of him. The silence stretches on between us as she puts two pancakes on his plate and I serve myself soon after. Although the smell is so utterly scrumptious, I feel too nervous to eat. 

We're not the type of family who sits at the table and eats together like this. I can count those occasions with my two hands, that's how infrequent they've been. 

"Dig in, what are you waiting for," He tells both me and my mum, who appears just as wary. I watch her cut up a piece and dip it in maple syrup before doing the same. 

Dad takes another sip of his beer before he finally drops the bomb on both of our heads. 

"So I've started a new joint venture. Something that I think could be very lucrative for all of us." 

My mum's face pales but she pretends to cut up another piece, her knife scratching the plate, earning a glare from her husband. 

"Aren't you going to ask me about it?" He exclaims, voice raising and I flinch in my seat. 

"What sort of joint venture is it? With who?" I ask tentatively. 

Dad only rolls his eyes. "As usual, you ask all the wrong questions. You should be asking me how this is going to improve our lives."

Mum puts her arm out towards him cautiously, the ghost of a bruise fading on her forearm still visible. "What is it about, dear?" 

"We're going to invest in a cattle farm. From there we'll be able to source out milk, cheese and of course meat. If our projections are correct, I'll be earning millions in the next five years. We'll be out of this God forsaken building. We could probably afford a place on the other side of the park, heck maybe even the city." 

My heart sinks so hard, so fast, I feel it in the pit of my stomach. I've heard this spiel too many times before. It's always the same. Barely thought out planning with big, unrealistic potential revenue. 

Who's going to invest when my father barely has money to buy groceries? 

Who's the 'we' he keeps talking about?

Who's going to be working on the farm and milking the cows because I'm sure as hell my deadbeat father isn't going to be doing any of that?

And how the hell will he be able to make profits in the millions from one single farm, when farmers themselves have been protesting the rising costs of maintaining their livelihoods?

"Well, what do you think?" He's looking at me when he speaks. 

"It's amazing." I lie through gritted teeth. I pray that this conversation stops here. That he stops talking and we can eat in peace. But of course that's not why we're gathered here today. 

"I knew you would think so, my little economist." He pats me on the shoulder and I nearly fall off my seat. "Which is why I'm going to need your help."

He gestures to the both of us and I can't help but steal a furtive glance at my mum. She ignores my stare, studying the crease in the table cloth with great concentration. 

"Help?" I squeak because my mum doesn't seem to want to do any talking. Not that I blame her. 

"Like I said I need to invest in this farm for it to work. So I'm going to need your help." He tells us both, tone growing defensive. "It's not like it's just for me. This is for our family's future I'm talking about. Don't act like I'm asking for a favour." 

The problem is, this isn't the first time. Time and time again, since he was dropped from his last job, he would come to us about this new big project that would get us out of the slums. My mother gave him half of her savings the first time and then he stole the remainder of it for his second business scheme. 

We never saw that money again and none of those ventures took off like he said they would. 

"How much do you need?" I don't even know why I'm entertaining his delusions but I cross my arms over my chest and wait for an answer anyway. 

"Fifty grand." He says and my jaw falls open in shock. I'm a student on scholarship and mum works extra shifts at the hospital just to make ends meet at home because her sorry ass husband can't get his butt off the couch to earn a living. 

None of us here have that kind of money and even if I did, there's no way in hell I'm giving any of it to him. 

"Dear, we don't have that amount." Mum tells him gently and I watch in intrepid horror as his features contort with rage, lips curling, eyebrows knitting together in a tight frown. 

"Stingy fucking bitch. I know you keep a stash of money hidden somewhere around here. And you," He glares at me pointedly. "You're running around with the Wyatt kid, going to charity dos and mingling with the elite. It wouldn't cost a dime for his father to give me fifty grand. Blow him and he'll probably give me a hundred." 

My eyes widen in shock. I can't believe he just said that. 

"Dan. That's no way to talk to your daughter," Mum says in a shaky voice. 

"Oh, don't be such a prude, Ina. Why else would she date him if not for his money?" He waves me off like I'm a piece of furniture to be dismissed. 

"I don't have any money to give you, sorry." I tell him succinctly and an eerie silence follows my words as my father stares at the both of us. 

"You stingy fucking parasites. After all I've done, after all my hard work. You can't even give me this." 

"We don't have anything to give. It's not like we're keeping it. There is nothing," Mum berates in frustration. 

"Liar." Dad says, clearly in denial. "My daughter is spreading her legs for a millionaire and you're telling me she has no money?" 

"Stop talking about Danielle like that." Mum points her finger at him in warning. 

"Or what?" He smiles and then suddenly he's grabbing her arm. He twists her bony limbs behind her back and pushes her head down on her plate, her cheek pressing down on a half eaten pancake. 

My mother winces in pain, the ceramic plate groaning under the pressure, threatening to crack as he pushes down on her hard. 

I've never reacted so violently before. Never tried to defend myself but today I jump up, aiming a butter knife at him. Even my father looks shocked. 

"Let her go or I'll stab you, I swear." My legs are shaking, body feeling weak as I aim the knife at his thick, crease laden neck. 

"You'll stab your own father?" He asks me, looking more amused than anything. 

"You beat your own wife." I say in a trembling voice and he looks angrier than I've ever seen him but he releases her. 

"You have no manners. Come here." He reaches out for me and I nearly scream when my mother wraps her arms around his waist, trying to restrain him. 

"Get out of here," She yells at me repeatedly but all I can see is the look of murder in my father's eyes. "Danielle, get out now! Please!"

I bolt out of the house, taking the steps two at a time till I'm across the street, standing in front of the mini supermarket. 

But as soon as I reach the shop I regret it. I shouldn't have left her behind but I'm also scared beyond reason. I should go back. I should. 

Instead I start pacing back and forth, panic keeping my body on edge. And then I spot Luke exiting through the sliding doors with a bag of chips in hand. 

"Hey Danielle," He says casually but then he notices my fear stricken face. "You, okay?"

I nod but I feel like throwing up. Just then we both hear a shriek from the distance and I run across the street, knowing deep down I made a mistake by leaving my mother to his mercy. 

I hear Luke's footsteps close behind but I don't care that he's following. I just need to know that she's safe but my heart plummets when I see my mother lying on the floor, her mouth filled with blood and a broken tooth lying under the edge of the table.