Lia stood before the massive gated mansion, her heart pounding in her chest. The night air felt thick and oppressive, making the luxurious estate appear even more daunting, casting eerie shadows across its pristine lawn. The building loomed over her, just as it always did when she visited. It felt less like a home and more like a fortress—a reminder of everything she wanted to escape from. She had taken so many deep breaths that she'd lost count, but they didn't help ease the tension that coiled tight in her chest. Her phone kept vibrating, each buzz making her flinch as the flurry of messages continued to flood in, one after the other, worsening her anxiety.
She felt her body start to shake, her knees trembling slightly as the weight of what was about to happen settled heavily on her. Just then, she felt strong arms wrap around her from behind, pulling her into a hug.
"We can go back," Ry's voice was soft, comforting against the night. "You don't have to go in."
She sniffed, wiping her eyes quickly before turning around to face him. "No," she said, her voice shaky but determined. "It's okay." She forced a smile, though her hands trembled as she tapped his shoulder. "Just… wait out here."
Ry's brow furrowed with concern, but before he could protest, Lia was already making her way toward the door, leaving him behind. Her body felt stiff with fear, but she forced herself forward, step by step, determined to get it over with.
Inside, the living room was as cold as ever. Her stepmother, Tammy, sat on one of the plush leather couches, legs elegantly crossed, her eyes fixed on something invisible, as though Lia wasn't even there.
"Good evening, ma," Lia said softly, standing just inside the doorway.
Tammy didn't acknowledge her. Not a glance, not a word. It was as though Lia were a ghost, something that simply didn't exist in her carefully curated world.
Lia's stomach churned, the familiar feeling of being invisible gnawing at her insides. Just then, her half-sister, Faye, descended the staircase, her long hair flowing behind her as she headed toward the kitchen. Lia swallowed hard and tried again.
"Good evening, Faye."
Faye didn't even pause. She breezed past without so much as a flicker of recognition, leaving Lia standing there, frozen in the silence. Lia could feel her skin prickling with discomfort, the buzzing sound starting in her ears. She pinched her leg so hard she left marks, trying to ground herself, but it wasn't enough to stop the rising tide of anxiety that washed over her.
Before she could even catch her breath, her brother Misha walked into the living room. Lia opened her mouth to greet him, but he cut her off before she could finish.
"Good eve—"
Misha slid his headphones over his ears and cranked up the volume, drowning out whatever she might have said next. Lia's heart sank, her teeth digging into her inner cheek so hard that she could taste blood. Her anxiety skyrocketed, every part of her screaming to run, to leave. But she couldn't—not yet.
A maid appeared, her expression blank and cold. "The master will see you now," she said, her voice devoid of warmth. Lia nodded and followed her down the hall, each step heavier than the last.
When they reached the office door, the maid knocked softly. "Yes?" came an irritated voice from inside. Lia winced at the sound.
"Master, she's here," the maid said, her tone still indifferent.
There was no response.
"You'll wait here until he calls you in," the maid said flatly, not even bothering to look at Lia before she turned and left, disappearing down the hall.
Lia stood outside the door, her body rigid, every muscle tensed as though she might be scolded for the simple act of breathing. Time dragged on. Minutes turned into hours, her legs growing sore, her head swimming with hunger and exhaustion. But she didn't dare lean against the wall or crouch down for relief. She stood straight, unmoving, just as she had when she first arrived.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity—though it had only been three hours—the door clicked open. Lia's heart pounded as she forced her stiff, aching legs to move. She knocked softly on the door and, hearing an annoyed grunt, pushed it open.
Her father sat behind his desk, his assistant, Moyo, seated across from him. Lia took a step inside, but Moyo held up a hand, signaling her to stop. She froze immediately.
"Good evening, sir. Good evening, Mr. Moyo," Lia said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Neither man responded.
Her father turned to Moyo, speaking as though Lia wasn't even in the room. "Moyo, deal with this nonsense. I don't want my mood ruined by filth." His voice was sharp, cold. "From now on, she is never to come near this house again. Understood?"
Moyo nodded. "Understood, sir."
Lia felt the floor beneath her shift, but she kept her expression neutral, biting back the sting of her father's words. Moyo pulled out a blank paper, scribbling something down before sliding it across the desk toward her, not even looking in her direction.
"Write down your price," he said, stressing the word price as though he were spitting it out. "Enough to pay you off."
Lia's vision blurred as the buzzing in her ears grew louder. Her hands shook as she reached for the pen. She couldn't breathe—couldn't think—but she forced herself to focus. If they were paying her off, she might as well make it count.
She scrawled the figure onto the check—100 million. Moyo took the paper, but left the pen on the desk, as though touching it again would taint him. Lia swallowed hard, the nausea rising in her throat.
"Th-thank you, sir," she stammered, but her father didn't respond. He didn't even look at her.
She turned and walked out as fast as her legs would carry her, her body numb from the pain of standing so long. When she reached the living room, Tammy was gone, but the maids were still there, spraying salt across the floors and furniture in every place Lia had been.
Her chest tightened, and she had to fight to keep her emotions in check. She broke into a run as soon as she reached the front door, pushing through it and rushing toward the gate. As soon as she was outside, the bile rose in her throat, and she doubled over, vomiting onto the road. Food and blood spilled out, mixing on the pavement, as Ry ran toward her, rubbing her back.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured, helping her stand upright as her strength slowly returned.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, tears streaming down her face. Her phone dinged and the money was already sitting in her account comfortably "Get me out of here," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Ry glanced back at the mansion, a shadow of anger passing over his face. "With pleasure," he said, guiding her toward their car. Without another word, he started the engine, and they sped off, leaving the house—and its dreadfulness—behind them.
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Back at the shop, Lia stared blankly at her phone, waiting against better judgement, for a reply from her mother. She had just sent her a large sum of money, but as expected, no message came. No "thank you," no concern, no acknowledgment. It was the usual cold response she had grown to accept. With a sigh, she sent the remaining cash to Isla before calling her to let her know
Isla looked at her, concern flickering in her eyes. "You sure you're okay, Lia? You don't sound so good."
"I'm fine," Lia said, trying to sound convincing, though the exhaustion was clear in her voice. She had just returned from her father's house—well, not her house anymore. Not after today. The nightmare was finally over.
Her chest tightened at the thought of that cold, empty house, and she couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through her. For years, she had endured the disdain, the hostility, the complete erasure of her existence from their lives. Now, with that money in her possession, she would never have to set foot there again.
Ry, her knight in shining armour, had wanted to stay with her after everything that happened, but Lia had insisted he leave. She needed space. Needed to breathe. Her mind was swirling with too many thoughts, and Ry's constant hovering, though sweet, was suffocating in moments like this.
She forced a smile into the phone. "I'll be fine. I just need to finish cleaning up here, and then I'll head home. It's only a few minutes away."
Isla sounded unconvinced but sighed into the phone, knowing better than to push. "Alright, but don't overdo it. You've been through enough for one night."
Lia nodded, picking up the last of the trash bags. She stepped outside into the cool night air, carrying them to the large bin behind the shop. The local council was scheduled to pick up the garbage in the early morning, and she wanted everything ready before she left.
The night was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves in the wind and the distant hum of traffic. It should have been peaceful, but something felt off. The alley behind the shop was dimly lit, and as she dragged the trash bag toward the bin, she heard a faint grunt.
She paused, her eyes narrowing as she peered down the alleyway. A man stumbled out of the darkness, clutching his chest and leaning heavily against the wall. His movements were sluggish, pained, as though he was struggling just to stay on his feet.
"Hey, are you alright?" Lia called out, her voice shaky with concern.
Before the man could respond, another figure emerged from the shadows. Hooded, face obscured, the figure moved swiftly, closing the distance between them in seconds.
Lia's breath caught in her throat as she watched in horror. The hooded figure shoved the man to the ground with brutal force, and in one fluid motion, yanked a dagger out of his chest. The sound was sickening—a wet, squelching noise that made Lia's stomach churn.
Her hands flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp as she pressed herself against the wall, trying to stay hidden. Her heart pounded in her ears, the world around her spinning as she heard the sound of the dagger plunging into the man's body three more times. The man grunted, but soon, there was only silence.
Lia's body trembled as she watched the hooded figure glance around the alley, searching the shadows for witnesses. She held her breath, frozen in place, her entire body screaming for her to run, but fear kept her rooted to the spot.
After what felt like an eternity, the figure turned and stalked off into the darkness, disappearing as swiftly as he had come.
Lia slumped against the wall, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She had to call someone—an ambulance, the police, anyone. But as she reached for her phone, a thought stopped her cold.
What if the killer saw her? What if he came back?
Her fingers hovered over the phone, indecision gripping her. If she called for help, she would be involved. And if she was involved, so would Isla and Ry. She couldn't drag them into this. What if the killer came after them?
Her head spun, her vision blurring as panic set in. She tried to steady herself, but the world tilted violently, and before she could take another step, everything went black.
When Lia slowly opened her eyes, the world was fuzzy and disorienting. Four pairs of eyes stared down at her, filled with concern.
"Lia? Can you hear me?" Ry's voice was the first thing she recognized, though it sounded distant, like he was speaking through water.
She blinked, trying to clear the fog from her mind. Her head throbbed, and her body felt heavy, as though she had been pulled from a deep, suffocating sleep. She looked up at the worried faces surrounding her, nodding slowly in response to Ry's question.
Isla was beside her, helping her sit up, while Ry handed her a glass of water. She didn't drink it—just held it in her hands, staring blankly at the liquid.
"Are you feeling okay now?" Isla asked gently, her voice laced with concern.
Lia nodded, though her head still felt like it was spinning. Ry pressed a hand to her forehead and frowned. "She's burning up," he said, his voice tight with worry. "Mom, help her wash up. I'll run to the pharmacist to get something for her fever."
"Be careful!" Isla called after him, but Ry was already out the door, moving with his usual urgency.
Isla turned her attention back to Lia, her face softening with concern. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
Lia didn't protest as Isla led her to the bathroom. The warmth of the bath water and Isla's gentle hands helped ease the tension in her muscles, but her mind was still in a haze. She felt afraid for some reason, but she didn't know why
Once she was undressed and settled into the bath, Isla sat beside her, finally speaking again. "We found you passed out at the shop," she said, her tone gentle but probing. "What happened, Lia? You scared us."
Lia swallowed hard, her throat dry. It was like her brain was on a fritz. No matter how much she tried to think, a blank darkness was all she could see
Isla watched her closely, her eyes searching Lia's face for answers. "You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready," she said softly, "but you look like you've been through hell."
Lia bit her lip, She really wanted to say something but her mind couldn't come up with anything. Just what happened?
"I—" Lia's voice cracked, and she cleared her throat, trying to steady herself. "I….I can't remember."
Isla's eyes widened, but she remained quiet, waiting for Lia to continue.
"Every time I try to think or remember I feel like my head is pounding and about to explode."
Isla's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with concern. "Oh dear… Ry will be back with the meds soon?"
"okay" Lia whispered, shaking her head. "Did you guys come to the shop because I wasn't home yet?"
Isla reached out and took Lia's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Of course. the shop is not far away from home and you weren't picking up your call or coming home. So we had to come see what was happening. Imagine our shock when we found you passed out on the ground"
Lia's heart pounded in her chest, for some reason she was feeling fear and panic but she just couldn't bring herself to the reason why she was feeling this way.
Ry returned moments later, a bottle of fever medication in hand. "Here," he said, kneeling beside her. as she was still immersed in the foamy bath "Take this. It'll help."
Lia nodded, taking the pills and washing them down with the glass of water Ry had offered her previously, which he brought to the bathroom. Ry and Isla exchanged a worried glance, but neither said anything. They didn't need to. The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken fear.
As Lia sat there, she just closed her eyes, hoping this feeling would go away. she didn't want either Isla or Ry to notice, else they would be very worried about her, and she didn't want that. They finally stood up giving her privacy and leaving her to her thoughts. Not that she minded that either of them was there with her. She was used to having them around.