The House That Whispers
The door clicked shut behind them with a sound too loud for the silence that followed.
The house was grand, but lifeless. Expensive furniture, untouched books, vases of fresh lilies—Selena’s touch was everywhere, and yet not a single object in the house looked like it belonged to a home. It looked like it belonged to a woman who needed everything perfect, or it would all fall apart.
Selena hart
“Sit,” she said, not looking back.
Her mother obeyed. She sank onto the cream sofa in the drawing room, folding her hands in her lap like a schoolgirl waiting for scolding.
Selena poured tea—two cups, one for each of them. She placed the first cup in front of her mother with robotic elegance, then sat across from her, crossing her legs neatly.
Selena hart
“You didn’t say much today,”
elara hart
Her mother looked down into the steaming cup. “I didn’t know what to say.”
Selena hart
“You could’ve started with the truth,” she replied, voice like ice in a velvet glove. “You could’ve told them he wasn’t the one who broke your heart.”
elara hart
Her mother winced. “Selena, please—”
Selena hart
“He left you, because he knew you never loved him. Because he found out you still pined for your college lover. The same lover who later became your second husband. The same man who—” her voice dropped “—ruined both of our lives.”
Her mother clutched the cup tighter, knuckles whitening.
Selena hart
“Don’t pretend you forgot,”
Selena hart
“You may want to mourn my father now, but he was just the first casualty in your string of regrets. He left you with a broken heart—and you let another man break mine.”
elara hart
Her mother’s lips trembled. “I didn’t know he would become... like that.”
Selena hart
“You knew what he was, You just hoped his cruelty wouldn’t reach you.”
Her mother closed her eyes.
Selena hart
“I was seven when he locked me in the closet,” she said softly. “Nine when he slapped you so hard I thought he’d killed you. Ten when he threatened to drown me in the tub for answering back.”
elara hart
Her mother shook her head. “Stop... please...”
But Selena wasn’t listening. She never did when the subject was this sacred. Her pain didn’t ask for permission. It demanded obedience.
Selena hart
“Grandfather saved us,” she said, her voice a blade now. “He was the only one who ever tried. And what did you do after that? Did you finally become a mother?”
Her mother didn’t respond. Couldn’t.
Selena hart
“You didn’t. You became a shadow in a nice house. You disappeared into the silence. And I took your place.”
A long, suffocating pause.
Then suddenly—Selena’s voice changed. Softer. Sweeter. Sickening.
Selena hart
“But it’s okay, Mama,” she said with a smile, gently placing her hand over her mother’s. “You don’t have to think anymore. I’ll take care of you.”
Her mother blinked at the sudden shift, confused by the warm tone now replacing the ice.
Selena hart
“You’re tired, You’ve had a hard life. You don’t need to make choices anymore. I’ll do it all for you.”
Her thumb brushed her mother’s wrist. Not comforting. Calculating.
Selena hart
“You’ll take your medicine on time,” she added. “You’ll eat what I send. You’ll see only the people I approve of. We’ll keep things peaceful, won’t we?”
Her mother looked up, terrified—but trapped.
Selena hart
“And you won’t ever leave me,” she whispered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her mother’s ear. “Because if you do... well, then you’d be just like him. And I don’t think either of us want that.”
Her mother gave a tiny, fragile nod.
Selena hart
“Good girl,” she said, standing up, smile still in place.
She walked away, leaving her mother holding the untouched tea, staring into it like it held the remnants of her spine.
Outside, the wind howled against the windows, but the house stayed silent—like it had learned, long ago, never to speak unless spoken to.
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