I stepped into the hotel room, my heart heavy with concern as I saw my daughter Julie huddled on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked up at me with pleading eyes, and my heart broke at the sight.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked gently, kneeling down beside her.

Julie sniffled, trying to compose herself before she spoke. “Dad, they made me sleep on the floor,” she whispered, her voice quivering with emotion.

My blood boiled with anger at the thought of my daughter being mistreated by her stepsisters. I knew I had to intervene, to protect Julie from any further harm.

With a determined resolve, I headed to the other room where my wife and her daughters were staying. I knocked firmly on the door, my mind racing with a mix of emotions.

When my wife opened the door, her expression shifted from surprise to concern as she saw the stern look on my face.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

I didn’t waste any time. “Our daughters made Julie sleep on the floor,” I said, my voice edged with frustration.

My wife’s eyes widened in shock, and I could see the anger bubbling beneath the surface. “What? That’s unacceptable!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in indignation.

I nodded, feeling a sense of validation wash over me. “Exactly. I won’t stand for it,” I replied firmly.

My wife’s expression softened, and she reached out to grasp my hand. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll talk to them right away,” she said, her tone filled with determination.

As we addressed the situation together, I felt a sense of relief knowing that Julie wouldn’t have to endure such mistreatment again. And as we worked through the challenges of blending our families, I knew that our love and support for each other would see us through any obstacle that came our way.