The house felt heavier that night, suffocating in its silence. Caleb stood by his bedroom window, gripping his backpack strap tightly, his heart pounding against his ribs. He had packed everything Elyra might need—warm clothes, water, medicine—anything that could make her last few days a little easier.

But the hardest part was still ahead.

Getting out of the house unnoticed was one thing. Leaving behind the years of hatred, the weight of their parents' cruelty—that was something else entirely.

He exhaled sharply, pushing those thoughts away. This wasn’t about him.

It was about her.

Elyra was waiting for him in the attic. She was too weak to move much, so he had promised to carry her if needed. The moment the house fell into complete silence, he would go to her, and they would leave.

His hands trembled.

He had never defied his parents before. Never stood up to them in a way that truly mattered.

But none of that mattered now.

He turned toward the door, but just as he reached for the handle, a voice cut through the darkness.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

Caleb froze.

He turned slowly, his stomach twisting as he met his mother’s cold gaze. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression unreadable—but the sharp glint in her eyes told him everything.

She knew.

His pulse thundered in his ears.

"I asked you a question," she said, her voice eerily calm.

Caleb clenched his jaw. "It doesn’t concern you."

Her lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Oh, but it does. Because I know exactly what you’re trying to do."

His breath caught.

She took a step closer. "You’re planning to take that girl with you, aren’t you?"

Caleb stiffened.

"That girl," she said again, her voice dripping with disdain. "That useless, pathetic girl who should have died instead of her sister."

Something inside Caleb snapped.

"Don’t talk about her like that," he growled.

His mother blinked in surprise. Then she laughed—a bitter, hollow sound. "Oh? And what are you going to do about it?"

Caleb didn’t answer. He just turned, grabbing the doorknob, intent on leaving.

But before he could take another step, she grabbed his wrist.

"You’re not going anywhere," she hissed.

Caleb yanked his arm free, glaring at her. "You don’t control me."

His mother’s eyes darkened. "You think you can just walk out of here? Take her with you? And then what? You think you can save her?" She let out a mocking laugh. "She’s already dead, Caleb. She’s just too stubborn to stop breathing."

His stomach twisted in rage.

"She’s my sister," he snapped.

"She was never your sister," his mother spat. "Your real sister is dead. That thing you’re protecting is nothing but a curse that should’ve never been born."

Caleb’s entire body shook.

For years, he had let her words poison him. He had believed them, let them shape the way he saw Elyra, let them justify his cruelty toward her.

But now, all he felt was disgust.

Not toward Elyra.

Toward himself.

His mother took a step forward, lowering her voice. "She doesn’t deserve your pity, Caleb. And she certainly doesn’t deserve to be loved."

Caleb’s vision blurred with fury.

He turned away before he did something he would regret. "I’m done listening to you."

He moved toward the door again, but suddenly, his father’s voice rang out from the hallway.

"You leave this house, and you’re dead to us."

Caleb froze.

His father stood in the shadows, watching with cold, empty eyes. "If you walk out that door with her, don’t ever think about coming back."

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Caleb knew this was a test.

For years, he had obeyed, hoping to earn even the smallest shred of approval from the people who were supposed to love him.

But what kind of love was this?

What kind of family abandoned their child, treated them like filth, let them suffer and waste away in silence?

His father was waiting for his answer.

Caleb met his gaze, feeling something inside him shift—something break.

"I don’t need to come back," he said quietly.

His father’s expression didn’t change.

His mother scoffed, shaking her head. "You’re a fool."

Caleb turned toward the door, gripping the handle tightly. "No." His voice was steady, firm. "I was a fool for waiting this long."

Without another word, he pushed past them and ran.

The attic door creaked as he opened it, and Elyra was already sitting up, her tired eyes widening. "Caleb?"

"No time to explain," he panted. "We have to go now."

Elyra hesitated for only a moment before nodding. He lifted her carefully into his arms, her weight frighteningly light.

As he carried her down the stairs, he half expected his parents to stop him. To scream, to hit him, to tear Elyra from his arms.

But they didn’t.

They just stood there, watching.

Their silence was worse than any words they could have said.

Caleb walked past them without looking back.

And when he stepped out of that house, into the cold night air, he felt something he hadn’t felt in years.

Freedom. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Be Continued...