The bright afternoon sun poured through the kitchen windows of the suburban home.
Sarah adjusted the small yellow bib around her eight month old daughter Lily.
The quiet house smelled like fresh coffee and toasted bread on that warm Tuesday.
Mark was working in his home office down the long hallway near the stairs.
Brenda walked into the dining area carrying a heavy stack of folded laundry.
She was Sarah's older sister and had been staying with them for two weeks.
Sarah smiled gently at her sister as she wiped the high chair tray clean.
She asked Brenda if she would mind watching Lily for just two minutes.
Sarah needed to run upstairs to fetch a clean outfit for the baby.
Brenda set the laundry basket on a wooden chair with a heavy sigh.
She nodded her head without looking directly into Sarah's eyes that afternoon.
Sarah walked quickly up the carpeted stairs to the master bedroom closet.
She reached for a small pink onesie stored on the middle shelf inside.
Suddenly a sharp baby cry echoed through the quiet house below her feet.
It was not a soft whimper or a tired moan from the infant.
It was a loud screech of pain that made Sarah freeze in place.
Her heart pounded against her ribs as she dropped the pink baby clothes.
She sprinted down the hallway toward the top of the wooden staircase.
The crying grew louder and more frantic with every step she took down.
Sarah rounded the corner into the bright dining room with wide eyes.
Brenda stood right beside the high chair in her bright yellow sweater.
Her hands were raised slightly as if she was trying to hide something.
Lily was sobbing heavily with a bright red mark on her tender arm.
Sarah gasped in deep horror as she rushed toward the high chair instantly.
She pushed Brenda aside softly to reach her crying baby daughter first.
She gathered Lily into her arms and held her tight against her chest.
The infant buried her small face into Sarah's soft blue sweater right away.
Sarah looked at her sister with total shock in her teary eyes.
She demanded to know what had just happened to her precious child.
Brenda shifted her weight and looked up at the ceiling defensively instead.
She claimed the baby had tried to spill a cup of warm tea.
Sarah looked closely at the small red mark on Lily's soft skin.
It was clearly the shape of an adult hand print from a slap.
Her sister had actually struck a helpless eight month old tiny baby girl.
The room suddenly felt ice cold despite the bright afternoon sunlight streaming in.