Chapter 2 – A House of Secrets

Morning came too soon.

I barely slept. Even with the door locked, I didn’t feel safe. I had stayed curled up in a tight ball under my blanket, listening for any sounds outside my door. Every creak, every shift in the silence sent my heart racing.

Now, the first rays of sunlight slipped through my curtains, casting dull golden streaks across my room. I forced myself to sit up, my body stiff, my head heavy.

I had to get up. I had to move.

My family hated laziness, and if I wasn’t downstairs before breakfast, I’d regret it.

With a deep breath, I pushed off the covers and walked to my closet, grabbing the first hoodie I could find. I pulled it over my head, letting the oversized fabric swallow me. It made me feel small. Hidden. Safe.

Even if I wasn’t.

The kitchen was already alive with the sounds of clinking plates and murmured conversation when I stepped in. The smell of fresh toast and coffee filled the air, but my stomach churned.

My mother stood by the stove, her back straight, her hair perfectly pinned into a bun. She didn’t look at me as she flipped an egg onto a plate. My father sat at the table, reading the newspaper, as if this was a normal family breakfast. As if we weren’t broken.

Liam sat across from him, sipping his coffee with that same lazy smirk on his face. His eyes flicked up the moment I entered, and I knew—he had been waiting for me.

"Good morning, sweetheart," my mother said, her voice smooth, too controlled. "You’re late."

I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes down. "I’m sorry."

She turned, finally looking at me. "Are you?"

I nodded, taking the seat farthest from Liam.

Silence stretched between us as my mother placed a plate in front of me. Toast, eggs, a few slices of fruit. It was the same as everyone else’s, but somehow, it still felt different.

"You’ll be cleaning today," she said simply.

I nodded again, shoving a small bite of food into my mouth even though I had no appetite.

"Don’t just nod. Say ‘yes, ma’am,’" she corrected, her voice sharp.

I forced myself to look up. "Yes, ma’am."

She smiled, but it never reached her eyes.

Liam chuckled under his breath, stirring his coffee. "She’s so obedient this morning," he mused. "That’s cute."

My hands clenched into fists under the table.

"Liam," my father warned without looking up from his newspaper.

Liam raised his hands in mock innocence. "Just making conversation."

I focused on my plate, willing myself to stay quiet, to finish my food quickly so I could leave. But I wasn’t fast enough.

"After you’re done cleaning, you’ll go grocery shopping," my mother continued. "Liam will drive you."

My heart sank.

Of course, he would.

I opened my mouth to protest, but one look at my mother’s expression told me not to.

"Yes, ma’am," I murmured.

Liam smirked again, taking another sip of his coffee. "Can’t wait."

I could.

I could wait forever.

The drive to the grocery store was quiet.

Liam tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove, his gaze focused on the road. I kept my eyes out the window, watching the blur of houses and trees pass by.

It was strange. The world outside looked so normal. People walked their dogs, kids rode bikes down the sidewalk, laughter floated through the air.

A world so different from mine.

A world I didn’t belong to.

"You’re quiet today," Liam finally said, breaking the silence.

I didn’t answer.

He chuckled. "Still mad about last night?"

I clenched my jaw, gripping the hem of my hoodie. "Can we just get this over with?"

Liam sighed dramatically. "So impatient."

The car pulled into the grocery store parking lot, and I reached for the door handle before he even turned off the engine.

"Not so fast," he murmured.

I froze as his fingers wrapped around my wrist.

His grip was firm, but not painful. Not yet.

I turned to him, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "What?"

He studied me for a moment, something unreadable in his eyes. Then, he smiled. "Nothing."

He let go, and I didn’t wait—I shoved the door open and stepped out, inhaling the crisp morning air.

For the next hour, I tried to focus on the list my mother had given me, keeping my head down as I moved through the aisles. Liam followed lazily behind me, making small comments about my choices, but I ignored him.

At checkout, I reached into my hoodie pocket for the cash my mother had given me—only to realize it was gone.

Panic surged through me. I checked my jeans, the grocery bag, the cart—nothing.

"Looking for this?"

I looked up.

Liam held up the folded bills between his fingers, a smug expression on his face.

My stomach twisted.

"Give it back," I said quietly.

He smirked, twirling the money between his fingers. "Say ‘please.’"

I clenched my fists. "Liam—"

"Say it."

I swallowed my pride. "Please."

He grinned, finally handing me the money. "See? That wasn’t so hard."

I snatched it from his hand, turning back to the cashier, my face burning with humiliation.

He was always like this. Always playing with me, testing me, seeing how much I could take before I snapped.

And no matter how much I hated it…

I never snapped.

Because if I did, I didn’t know what would happen next.

The ride home was silent again.

Liam seemed satisfied with himself, humming along to the radio as he drove. I sat stiffly in my seat, staring straight ahead, waiting for this nightmare to be over.

When we pulled into the driveway, I grabbed the bags and rushed inside without another word.

But just as I stepped into the kitchen, my mother’s voice rang out.

"You’re late."

I stopped in my tracks.

She stood by the counter, arms crossed, her sharp eyes narrowing.

"We were only gone for an hour," I said carefully.

She stepped closer. "And yet, you still made me wait."

I opened my mouth, searching for the right words—words that wouldn’t make things worse.

But before I could say anything, her hand lashed out.

A sharp sting exploded across my cheek.

I gasped, my vision blurring for a second from the force of the slap.

The grocery bags slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud.