The morning air was thick with silence tense and expectant.
Evelyn descended the stairs slowly, already sensing trouble brewing like a storm beneath the polished floors. Her father sat at the head of the dining table, shoulders stiff, face drawn. Claudia stood behind him with her usual mask of concern tight-lipped, smug, and trembling with superiority.
"You made a scene last night," her father said without greeting.
Evelyn paused mid-step. "You'll have to be more specific. The entire house is a scene."
He didn't like that.
His jaw ticked. "You disrespected your stepmother."
Claudia gave a soft gasp. As though her honor had been mortally wounded.
Evelyn let out a breathless laugh. Cold. Dismissive. Then she simply walked past them toward the door.
Her father rose halfway from his chair. "Where are you going?"
"Out," she said without turning back. "Where the air isn't soaked in fake tears and hypocrisy."
Claudia's eyes narrowed as the door closed behind her.
"She's becoming dangerous," Claudia hissed. "The longer she stays, the more she poisons this household. Her mouth, her presence her nanny."
Her husband said nothing.
"She either leaves, or the nanny does," Claudia pressed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Choose."
***
Evelyn walked the broken path to the one place that still made her feel whole.
The orphanage.
Nestled on the quieter side of town, surrounded by a rusty iron gate and a faded brick wall, it didn't look like much. The paint was chipped, the windows creaked, and the garden was half wild but inside, it pulsed with laughter and hope.
Here, no one cared who her father was.
Or what Claudia whispered behind her back.
Or that Evelyn Hart belonged to a house with marble floors and no love.
Here, she was just Evelyn.
"You're late!" a tiny voice squeaked as she stepped through the door.
A blur of movement, then a girl with long, messy curls slammed into Evelyn's legs, hugging her with all the strength her small frame could muster.
Evelyn laughed, crouching down. "I'm only ten minutes late, Lily."
Lily placed her hands on her hips with all the sass a seven-year-old could muster. "Ten minutes is a lot in playtime years."
Evelyn smiled softly and brushed a strand of hair from the girl's forehead. She looked a little paler today. A little slower.
Her smile faltered.
Lily's condition was getting worse.
The doctors said she needed a surgery. One Evelyn couldn't afford, not yet. But she was saving every spare cent—every secret stash, every birthday gift she refused. Claudia would never allow the money to go to someone "unrelated," but Evelyn didn't care.
She'd find a way.
Even if she had to sell every dress and every lie her father had ever bought her.
Where's aunt maris? Lily asked.
She couldn't make it here today' she replied giving her a hug.
Did the evil stepmother scold you today? The girl's little voice asked.
Evelyn chuckled; I'm fine Lily and don't call anyone evil okay".
I brought cookies' she muttered showing her a box but I will let you have it if you can catch me' she said and ran' laughter filled the air.
They played. They painted. They made a mess of glitter and dreams.
For a few hours, Evelyn forgot the weight of her surname. Forgot Claudia's venom and her father's indifference.