**The Facade Cracks**

The social worker, Emily Wilson, gently took Ashley's arm and sat her back down in the chair. "Ashley, we know you're not fine," she said, her voice soft but firm. "We know you're being hurt. And we're here to help you." Ashley's eyes widened in shock as Emily Wilson's words cut through her defenses. How did they know? What did they plan to do? Ashley's mind was racing with questions, but she couldn't find the words to say anything. She just sat there, frozen in fear, as Emily Wilson's kind eyes looked into hers. "Who's hurting you, Ashley?" Emily Wilson asked gently, her eyes locked on Ashley's. Ashley shook her head, trying to deny it. "No one," she whispered, but her voice was barely audible. Emily Wilson's expression was sympathetic, but firm. "Ashley, we need to talk about this. We need to make sure you're safe." Ashley stood up, trying to appear confident. "I'm fine," she said, her voice firm. "I'm okay." She lied, trying to protect the people she loved, but also trying to protect herself from the truth. Emily Wilson's eyes never left Ashley's face. "Ashley, I think we need to do a home visit. I need to see your home and make sure that you're safe there." Ashley's heart sank. She didn't want Emily Wilson to see her home, to see her family like this. "You don't need to," Ashley quickly said, trying to brush her off. But Emily Wilson was firm. "I'm afraid I do, Ashley. I'll be coming to your home tomorrow to check on you." Ashley nodded, trying to appear cooperative, but her mind was racing with fear. What would happen when Emily Wilson saw her home? What would she think? As soon as Emily Wilson left, Ashley rushed out of the counselor's office, anxious to get home. She burst through the front door, hoping that everything would be okay, that her father would be sober and her mother would be happy. But as she entered the house, she could see that things were not okay. Sevain was sitting at the kitchen table, doing his homework, while Dante was watching cartoons on the living room couch. But Ashley's father was sitting on the couch, drinking a beer, his eyes red and angry. Ashley's mother was lying in bed, crying, Ashley could hear her muffled sobs. Ashley's heart sank as she realized that things were even worse than she had thought. As she walked into the living room, Ashley's father looked up at her, his eyes cold and hard. He took a swig of his beer, then stood up, his movements aggressive. "Ashley," he growled, his voice menacing. "You're late." He started to walk towards her, his eyes blazing with anger.