The heavy oak doors of the mansion felt more like prison gates than anything else.Just a few days ago, I’d been free—so close to building a life that was truly mine. But now I was back. Trapped. Every move I made was watched. Every breath, controlled.My father had taken my phone. Said it was “for my own good.” That I needed time to “recover.”But I knew the truth.He just wanted to break me all over again. Turn me back into the obedient little doll he used to parade around.The days dragged by, slow and silent. Too quiet. The maids walked on eggshells around me, their eyes full of pity. The guards stood near every door like I was some wild animal ready to escape.And my mother?She didn’t say much. Just stared. Always so cold, so disappointed. I couldn’t take her eyes anymore. They made me feel smaller than ever.The worst part? I wasn’t even allowed to talk about college. Every time I mentioned it, my father would cut me off with a wave of his hand.“You’ll go to college after the
Two weeks.It felt like two years. Maybe even more.Since that call, I’d been counting every hour, every minute. Every footstep outside my room made my heart race, hoping—praying—it was Tiffany.Then, she came.I didn’t see her at first. I heard her. Her laugh floated through the hallway like a breeze of fresh air. I hadn’t realized how quiet this place had been until her voice cut through the silence.My heart jumped.“Ah, Tiffany,” my father said, his voice filled with fake warmth. “It’s been too long.”The butler didn’t even get to announce her properly. She was already here.I stood at the top of the stairs, trying to act normal as she approached. I smiled, but my cheeks trembled. I didn’t want to look too excited. My father was always watching, always suspicious.“There’s my girl!” she said, opening her arms wide.I ran into her hug like it was the only safe place in the world.She smelled like lavender and sunshine. I almost cried right there.“You look... tired,” she whispered
The fight wasn’t going to be easy. Ms. Brenner had made that clear the moment I called her.“The court won’t just take your word, Elena,” she had said firmly. “We need proof. Birth certificate. School records. ID. Everything. You have to prove who you are—on paper.”But that was the problem. Inside this house, even my own name felt like it belonged to someone else. My father controlled everything. Every document. Every locked drawer.I sat on the edge of the guest bed, staring at the floor, feeling that familiar knot in my chest tighten.Where would I even begin?My phone buzzed quietly beside me, another message from Ms. Brenner. Just a simple reminder: We can do this. One step at a time.I clutched the phone and took a deep breath. I couldn’t give up now. Not when freedom was this close.And then, like sunlight slipping through the window, a thought came to me—Stella.Of course.If anyone could find those papers, it was her.I walked down the hallway, nerves prickling under my skin.
I poured my heart and soul into that application like it was my lifeline.Every section, every word—I gave it my full attention. But it was the essay that really cracked something open inside me. The moment I began typing, it felt like the dam I’d been holding back for years finally broke.Tears rolled down my cheeks. Not the kind that came from sadness—but the kind that came from release. From finally speaking my truth.“I want to study people,” I typed, my fingers trembling as they danced across the keyboard. “Because for so long, I’ve been surrounded by people who never really saw me.”I stopped and stared at the screen. That one sentence said everything.My parents never saw me. Not really. They saw a trophy daughter. A future heiress. A social puppet they could dress up and parade in front of their world.They never noticed the quiet girl who loved books, who asked questions, and who dreamed about simple things like bike rides and real love.I sniffled and wiped my face with the
I barely made it to the end of the hallway before the tears started stinging my eyes.I wasn’t crying because of the slap—though it did hurt, and the sting was still fresh on my skin. I was crying because everything inside me felt like it was breaking apart. But also… finally falling into place.I stepped outside the mansion into the cold evening air, letting it fill my lungs like freedom. My steps were slow and shaky. I didn’t know where I was going—I just needed to get away from those walls, that house, and their voices.Then my phone rang.The screen lit up with a name I hadn’t seen in weeks.Julian.My brother.I almost let it go to voicemail. But something inside me said, Pick it up.So I did.“Hello?” I whispered.“Elena,” came his voice, rough and tired. “What the hell are you doing?”I blinked, caught off guard by his tone. “Excuse me?”“Do you have any idea what you’ve just started?” He snapped. “I got ten missed calls from Dad. Mom is blowing up my phone. I leave town for tw
The bank. It kept replaying in my head like a bad memory that wouldn’t go away.I saw Elena every time I closed my eyes—her face, the way she would have reached out for me, and her voice calling my name as the car drove off. And I just stood there, helpless. Like a fool. Like a coward.They took her like she didn’t matter. Like she was just something to be collected and returned to a prison.The guard had said something that day. I don’t even remember the exact words anymore. Something about how they had the right.Something about her family. It didn’t matter. Nothing he said could explain it. Nothing could make it okay.I don’t remember how I got home. Cars honked, people yelled, and the world kept moving, but I didn’t care. Everything felt far away. Like I was underwater and everyone else was still breathing air.When I walked into the house, it felt colder.The kind of cold that had nothing to do with weather. The couch where she used to sit felt emptier. Her mug was still on the t
I sat on the edge of my bed, the old springs groaning beneath me like they understood just how tired I was.The room felt smaller than usual, like the walls were pressing in on me, squeezing out the last bit of air I had left. I needed a break. I needed a plan. I needed something.The diner job hadn’t made me rich. Far from it. It just kept me going.Kept food in my stomach, rent barely paid, and my head above water. Barely. But somehow, I had scraped something together. Real money. Not a lot, but enough to make me feel like maybe—just maybe—I could start over.Then there was the cash Kade had given me.I hated thinking about it. About him. About where that money came from. It made my skin crawl. Taking it felt like swallowing glass. But I’d needed it.I couldn’t have cleared all my debts without it. I couldn’t have shaken off everything that was holding me down. As bitter as it was, it helped. And I needed to move on.I emptied my pockets and laid out the bills and coins across my bl
Days turned into weeks, and the waiting nearly drove me insane.Every morning, I’d wake up with a sliver of hope in my chest, rush to check my email, only to be met with silence. And then I’d do it again ten minutes later… and again.I must’ve refreshed that inbox a thousand times a day. It felt like my entire life was sitting in someone else’s hands—waiting to be stamped with either a yes or a no.I started dreaming about it.Some nights, I saw the words Congratulations, you’ve been accepted blinking on the screen like they were meant just for me. Other nights, it was the opposite. A simple, cold rejection. Or worse—no reply at all. Those nights were harder to shake off. They stayed with me, like a weight I couldn’t shrug.One evening, I was back at the diner, elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing plates and trying not to spiral.The clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation around me couldn’t drown out the thoughts running wild in my head.That’s when Maria noticed.“You okay, N
Days turned into weeks, and the waiting nearly drove me insane.Every morning, I’d wake up with a sliver of hope in my chest, rush to check my email, only to be met with silence. And then I’d do it again ten minutes later… and again.I must’ve refreshed that inbox a thousand times a day. It felt like my entire life was sitting in someone else’s hands—waiting to be stamped with either a yes or a no.I started dreaming about it.Some nights, I saw the words Congratulations, you’ve been accepted blinking on the screen like they were meant just for me. Other nights, it was the opposite. A simple, cold rejection. Or worse—no reply at all. Those nights were harder to shake off. They stayed with me, like a weight I couldn’t shrug.One evening, I was back at the diner, elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing plates and trying not to spiral.The clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation around me couldn’t drown out the thoughts running wild in my head.That’s when Maria noticed.“You okay, N
I sat on the edge of my bed, the old springs groaning beneath me like they understood just how tired I was.The room felt smaller than usual, like the walls were pressing in on me, squeezing out the last bit of air I had left. I needed a break. I needed a plan. I needed something.The diner job hadn’t made me rich. Far from it. It just kept me going.Kept food in my stomach, rent barely paid, and my head above water. Barely. But somehow, I had scraped something together. Real money. Not a lot, but enough to make me feel like maybe—just maybe—I could start over.Then there was the cash Kade had given me.I hated thinking about it. About him. About where that money came from. It made my skin crawl. Taking it felt like swallowing glass. But I’d needed it.I couldn’t have cleared all my debts without it. I couldn’t have shaken off everything that was holding me down. As bitter as it was, it helped. And I needed to move on.I emptied my pockets and laid out the bills and coins across my bl
The bank. It kept replaying in my head like a bad memory that wouldn’t go away.I saw Elena every time I closed my eyes—her face, the way she would have reached out for me, and her voice calling my name as the car drove off. And I just stood there, helpless. Like a fool. Like a coward.They took her like she didn’t matter. Like she was just something to be collected and returned to a prison.The guard had said something that day. I don’t even remember the exact words anymore. Something about how they had the right.Something about her family. It didn’t matter. Nothing he said could explain it. Nothing could make it okay.I don’t remember how I got home. Cars honked, people yelled, and the world kept moving, but I didn’t care. Everything felt far away. Like I was underwater and everyone else was still breathing air.When I walked into the house, it felt colder.The kind of cold that had nothing to do with weather. The couch where she used to sit felt emptier. Her mug was still on the t
I barely made it to the end of the hallway before the tears started stinging my eyes.I wasn’t crying because of the slap—though it did hurt, and the sting was still fresh on my skin. I was crying because everything inside me felt like it was breaking apart. But also… finally falling into place.I stepped outside the mansion into the cold evening air, letting it fill my lungs like freedom. My steps were slow and shaky. I didn’t know where I was going—I just needed to get away from those walls, that house, and their voices.Then my phone rang.The screen lit up with a name I hadn’t seen in weeks.Julian.My brother.I almost let it go to voicemail. But something inside me said, Pick it up.So I did.“Hello?” I whispered.“Elena,” came his voice, rough and tired. “What the hell are you doing?”I blinked, caught off guard by his tone. “Excuse me?”“Do you have any idea what you’ve just started?” He snapped. “I got ten missed calls from Dad. Mom is blowing up my phone. I leave town for tw
I poured my heart and soul into that application like it was my lifeline.Every section, every word—I gave it my full attention. But it was the essay that really cracked something open inside me. The moment I began typing, it felt like the dam I’d been holding back for years finally broke.Tears rolled down my cheeks. Not the kind that came from sadness—but the kind that came from release. From finally speaking my truth.“I want to study people,” I typed, my fingers trembling as they danced across the keyboard. “Because for so long, I’ve been surrounded by people who never really saw me.”I stopped and stared at the screen. That one sentence said everything.My parents never saw me. Not really. They saw a trophy daughter. A future heiress. A social puppet they could dress up and parade in front of their world.They never noticed the quiet girl who loved books, who asked questions, and who dreamed about simple things like bike rides and real love.I sniffled and wiped my face with the
The fight wasn’t going to be easy. Ms. Brenner had made that clear the moment I called her.“The court won’t just take your word, Elena,” she had said firmly. “We need proof. Birth certificate. School records. ID. Everything. You have to prove who you are—on paper.”But that was the problem. Inside this house, even my own name felt like it belonged to someone else. My father controlled everything. Every document. Every locked drawer.I sat on the edge of the guest bed, staring at the floor, feeling that familiar knot in my chest tighten.Where would I even begin?My phone buzzed quietly beside me, another message from Ms. Brenner. Just a simple reminder: We can do this. One step at a time.I clutched the phone and took a deep breath. I couldn’t give up now. Not when freedom was this close.And then, like sunlight slipping through the window, a thought came to me—Stella.Of course.If anyone could find those papers, it was her.I walked down the hallway, nerves prickling under my skin.
Two weeks.It felt like two years. Maybe even more.Since that call, I’d been counting every hour, every minute. Every footstep outside my room made my heart race, hoping—praying—it was Tiffany.Then, she came.I didn’t see her at first. I heard her. Her laugh floated through the hallway like a breeze of fresh air. I hadn’t realized how quiet this place had been until her voice cut through the silence.My heart jumped.“Ah, Tiffany,” my father said, his voice filled with fake warmth. “It’s been too long.”The butler didn’t even get to announce her properly. She was already here.I stood at the top of the stairs, trying to act normal as she approached. I smiled, but my cheeks trembled. I didn’t want to look too excited. My father was always watching, always suspicious.“There’s my girl!” she said, opening her arms wide.I ran into her hug like it was the only safe place in the world.She smelled like lavender and sunshine. I almost cried right there.“You look... tired,” she whispered
The heavy oak doors of the mansion felt more like prison gates than anything else.Just a few days ago, I’d been free—so close to building a life that was truly mine. But now I was back. Trapped. Every move I made was watched. Every breath, controlled.My father had taken my phone. Said it was “for my own good.” That I needed time to “recover.”But I knew the truth.He just wanted to break me all over again. Turn me back into the obedient little doll he used to parade around.The days dragged by, slow and silent. Too quiet. The maids walked on eggshells around me, their eyes full of pity. The guards stood near every door like I was some wild animal ready to escape.And my mother?She didn’t say much. Just stared. Always so cold, so disappointed. I couldn’t take her eyes anymore. They made me feel smaller than ever.The worst part? I wasn’t even allowed to talk about college. Every time I mentioned it, my father would cut me off with a wave of his hand.“You’ll go to college after the
Cameron.The moment I saw him, my stomach dropped.He stood by the door like he owned the room, wearing that same wicked smile I used to fall for. His dark eyes sparkled with something close to amusement, like he was enjoying the show. Like I was the show.Of course he was here. Of course this was all planned. He and my father—two master manipulators playing chess while I was just the pawn.“Hello, Elena,” Cameron said smoothly, taking slow, confident steps toward me. His hands were tucked into his suit pockets like he had no care in the world. “You look… tired.”Tired? I almost laughed. I was tired—of running, hiding, and fighting. But hearing it from him made me want to scream.I didn’t answer. I just looked away.My father was seated behind his massive desk, fingers steepled under his chin. He looked at me like a judge waiting to deliver a verdict. Cold. Distant.The silence in the room felt sharp. The only sound was the loud ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. Tick. Ti