Chapter 3

Maddie

I stirred from my sleep, hearing the subtle sounds of morning. Blinking against the brightness, I found myself in a room flooded with light.

“Oh my God!” I gasped, leaping out of bed. Victor stood near the window, a detail I missed in my initial shock. Had I known, I wouldn't have screamed. He turned, confusion marking his face, which slowly morphed into anger. My throat went dry.

Supposed to leave right after, but I had fallen asleep in his arms. Trying to slip away, his gaze fixed on me.

“Don't move," he commanded, stern and unwavering. I froze.

“I have two questions," his deep voice cut through the tension. I nodded, unable to speak.

“What are you doing here?" I began to answer, but he raised a finger, cutting me off.

“Don't lie to me, and what is going on?” My attempt to find the words failed.

“Speak!" he shouted, the sound echoing through the house. Fear seized me; I trembled, lips glued together.

“Why are you mute, you weren't quiet last night,” he continued with anger lacing his words.

“This is all a misunderstanding,” I stammered slowly, attempting to muster the strength to speak.

“Misunderstanding? You can't be serious,” he dismissed in a hurry.

“I want to know what you are doing on my bed or you will be thrown in jail if you don't speak in three seconds.” His roar echoed, a threat hanging in the air.

Unable to contain it any longer, I burst into tears, attempting to explain the inexplicable. I laid bare the truth, my father's insistence that I replace my sister in his bed, driven by her supposed lack of virginity.

"My father insisted I sleep with you, instead of my sister because she isn't a virgin."

His face contorted with disgust and anger. The tight grip on his coffee cup betrayed his struggle to hold back.

The door swung open violently, and Stephanie barged into the bedroom. Surprise and anger flashed in her eyes at finding me still there.

"Wh... what are you doing here, Maddie?" she stammered, feigning innocence.

“Are you a part of this?" Victor turned to his wife, his voice now different from the one I heard during our night.

His loud voice interrupted my thoughts, now directed at my stepsister. Fear gripped her; she seemed clueless. As I was about to speak, he screamed again.

"I will ask you one more time, did you have any idea of this?" He demanded.

Stephanie's face revealed her intent to lie and blame me. Before she could utter a word, he caught her off guard.

"Don't lie to me; your sister told me everything," he declared, pointing at me.

Burdened by his questions, I realized I was still in my lingerie. Embarrassment engulfed me as I quickly left the bedroom, heading towards the room I had been assigned. Each step echoed with pain in my upper body, causing me to slow down. Amid Stephanie's pleas and Victor's escalating fury, I sensed trouble ahead, especially with my father. Yet, the pain I felt served as a constant reminder that my ordeal had only just begun.

I immersed myself in a hot bath, attempting to wash away the lingering discomfort and shame. Dressed and seated on the bed in that unfamiliar room, I awaited my fate. It wasn't long before Stephanie entered, announcing that we were leaving. Curious about the outcome of her discussion with Victor, I tried to ask, but the stern look she shot my way silenced me.

The journey back home unfolded in heavy silence; no words were exchanged between Stephanie and me. Her face bore the marks of tears, and I could feel the weight of her resentment. The memory of her threats before the wedding echoed in my mind. Despite being only a year younger, Stephanie's intimidating presence had always kept me in check.

Upon arriving home, Stephanie wasted no time sharing her version of events with our parents in the living room. She recounted Victor's rejection and the looming divorce. The revelation about Dad's debt being a catalyst for this ordeal hit me hard. Throughout her narration, I remained silent, only to be met with a sudden, harsh blow to my face. Linda, my stepmother, had slapped me, and my father erupted in anger, blaming me for everything. I wasn't afforded a moment to defend myself, and Stephanie stood by, seemingly indifferent as they both turned on me.

My father stormed into my room, hurling my belongings out of the house. Desperation overwhelmed me, and I pleaded with him through tears.

Dad, please don't do this; I have nowhere to go," I pleaded and wept until my eyes ran dry of tears.

Fueled by her long-standing disdain, my stepmother coldly commanded my eviction. As my father completed the heart-wrenching act, they slammed the gate shut, severing the last ties that bound me to that place.

Left stranded on the unforgiving street, I sought solace on the pavement beside the gate. Hours stretched beneath the scorching sun as I pondered my uncertain future.

The harsh reality set in: my only glimmer of hope might lie with my friend Cynthia, whose family had extended support after my mother's death. Summoning my strength, I rose and embarked on the journey to Cynthia's, silently praying they would open their doors and offer a shred of hope in my dire situation.

The betrayal from my father was a painful truth I struggled to accept.

"Congratulations, Miss. You are two months pregnant," the doctor exclaimed with enthusiasm. However, this news brought no joy. Despite taking all necessary precautions after the encounter with Victor, it seemed that my efforts to prevent pregnancy were in vain. I was now confirmed pregnant.

As the confirmation of my pregnancy settled in, tears threatened to overflow, and the weight of the news pressed heavily on my shoulders. However, having Cynthia and her parents by my side acted as an anchor, preventing me from succumbing to the overwhelming emotions.

Cynthia’s parents welcomed me into their home with open arms, treating me like their own. I poured out the tale of my recent struggles, and their genuine sympathy provided solace. For the first time in two months, I found peace, enjoying good food without anyone's complaints. However, this period of respite was drawing to a close.

“Hey, this doesn't mean your life has ended," Cynthia tried to cheer me up.

“Yes, it has," I replied, tears streaming down my face.

“What am I supposed to do?" I cried, struggling to find the words.

“You will have to bounce back,” she encouraged.

Upon our return home, I received an email notification on my phone. To my surprise, it was a scholarship offer for a fashion and design school. I had applied for it, before heading to college, uncertain if I would be accepted. The email confirmed my admission and awarded me a scholarship. However, the catch was that the school was in Italy.

Italy? I had never left New York. The idea of surviving in a foreign country was daunting. Despite my reservations, seeing the email made it feel right. I began to make arrangements and prepare for my journey abroad. It dawned on me that this was an opportunity to start my life anew, leaving behind everyone and embracing the baby on the way as my only family.

I said my tearful goodbyes to Cynthia and her family, a bittersweet farewell that marked the beginning of my solo journey. Boarding the plane, a surge of terror gripped me, but beneath it, a fierce determination to seize control of my life pulsed.