Seask – Empowering and Sharing Women's Stories

PART 1

— Yes, it was me. I slapped him instead of saying happy birthday.

Diego said it with such an easy smile that for a second no one in the kitchen knew whether they had just heard a joke or a confession.

The cake knife hovered above the vanilla frosting. The gold “32” balloons drifted slowly across the granite counter, as though they too felt uneasy. Lucía s...

PART 1

— Who did this to you, Mariana?

Daniel had barely unzipped his wife’s wedding dress when he froze.

For illustrative purposes only

The white, fine, hand-embroidered fabric slid a few inches down her back. What lay beneath had nothing to do with the happiness of a wedding day: old scars, thin as silver thread, and fresh purple bruises spread across her shou...

Marcos Almeida didn’t remember the exact moment his world split in two. He remembered the rain pounding against the windows. He remembered the phone vibrating on the kitchen table. He remembered an unfamiliar voice saying “Rodovia dos Imigrantes.”

Ana Clara, his wife, had gone out that afternoon to handle some family matters and buy a few small things for Miguel. She w...

For thirty years, I hated my birthday. It was the day my first love died. Or so I believed. Then a young woman who looked exactly like Lily walked into my yard holding a video, and within seconds, the life I’d spent decades grieving began to unravel.

I turned forty-seven last week, and for thirty years I’ve kept myself occupied every birthday.

For illustrative purp...

“Papa… Mommy did something bad, but she told me that if I told you, things would get much worse. Please help me… my back hurts so much.”

Lily Cross’s voice was barely a whisper, drifting from her pastel-painted bedroom in one of the city’s wealthiest neighborhoods. Julian Cross had just returned from a demanding business trip to Tokyo. His luggage still sat in the foye...