Chapter 2: Bargaining chip 

Watch out!” A voice shouted from behind as a fast-moving object whizzed past Sophia's her face. Instinctively, she ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the projectile.

“That was quick,” a voice chuckled from behind her. “I thought living large would have dulled a few of the skills you picked up around here.”

Sophia rolled her eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. She turned to face her younger brother, not by blood but by street, Abdul, who was grinning like a mischievous child. He was no longer the small boy she remembered; he had grown taller, his once-thin frame now thick with muscle. But despite the changes, he was still the same Abdul—impossible to surprise or outmaneuver.

“You rude, little, silly prick,” she muttered as she playfully launched herself at him. Abdul let out a burst of laughter, sprinting away from her. He tried to use a few feints to throw her off, but Sophia had known him since he was born. She had been the one to change his diapers, after all. From the moment he could run, they had played chase, and she was all too familiar with his tricks.

As expected, Abdul made a sharp left turn, convinced she would follow. But just as he switched directions, he found Sophia’s hand reaching out, grabbing him by the collar, and yanking him back toward the ground. Abdul yelped, landing with a soft thud on the ground. A wide grin stretched across his face as he lay there, looking up at her with mock admiration.

“You’ve gotten stronger too,” he said, still laughing.

Sophia smirked, her heart light. “And you’ve gotten taller and heavier. What are they feeding you?” She helped him to his feet, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’ve missed you,” Abdul croaked, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. “I thought you’d never come back. I thought you’d forgotten about us because you’re living rich now.” Tears began to well in his eyes, slipping down his cheeks as he clung to her.

Sophia’s chest tightened. She could feel her own emotions stirring. “Abdul,” she cooed softly, wiping away a tear from his cheek. “I would never forget about you. You’re my brother from another mother. What kind of sister would I be if I forgot about you?” The tension in his body slowly dissipated, and he looked up at her, his face breaking into a smile.

“Now I’ve got to go greet Mom and Dad. How about you come find me later?” she suggested, stepping back and releasing him from her embrace. Abdul nodded, his eyes glistening. “By the way, can you help me out with something? My phone’s screen got damaged, and I need to get it fixed today. Can you tell Delan to come and get it for me?”

“Of course,” Abdul replied, his voice casual but with a playful glint in his eye. “Just don’t forget that my birthday is coming up. I’ll be turning 17 soon. Want me to send you my wishlist?” He took a step back, already anticipating her response.

Sophia raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smile. “It depends. If I see a PS5 and seven other things on that list, I’ll be sending you my own wishlist for your birthday gift.”

“Dang it!” Abdul cursed, shaking his head and laughing as he walked away, leaving Sophia chuckling behind him.

She watched him go, a warmth blooming in her chest. It felt good to be back. She had missed everything about this place—the sights, the smells, the familiarity. This was where she had grown up, where her roots were. She had spent so much of her life here, breathing the same air, drinking the same water, and sharing in both the joy and sorrow of her family. It was impossible not to miss it, even with the luxurious life she had now.

It had been seven months since she left, seven months since she'd been forced to marry Ethan and Sophia still couldn’t fully believe how quickly time had passed. But it was all thanks to her father—he had insisted she stay away for a while. He probably knew that if she returned too soon, she’d spend more time here than at her new home.

Sophia pushed open the gates of her childhood home, a massive two-story building that towered over the surrounding houses. Her father had built it with dreams of a big family, but in the end, he only had her. As she stood at the threshold, memories of her childhood came rushing back. She spotted her mother dusting the windows and couldn’t help but smile.

Before she could even approach her, her mother’s voice rang out. “Sophia? Is that really you?”

Sophia turned, and the sight of her mother instantly made her heart ache. “My darling, look at you. You’re all fat and fresh now,” her mother said, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Sophia inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of her mother’s perfume. Despite the changes in her life, this moment felt just as it had when she was younger.

“You can now see that it was a good thing I arranged that marriage for you,” her mother added, her voice a mix of pride and satisfaction. “You and your father didn’t appreciate it back then. You thought I was doing it for myself. But now, look at you.”

Sophia stiffened at the mention of her marriage, the bittersweet memory rising in her throat. She chose not to comment, instead offering her mother a faint smile. “I’ve missed you too, Mother.”

“Come on in,” her mother urged, “your father just finished his meal. He’ll be so happy to see you.”

Sophia followed her mother inside, the familiar layout of the house bringing both comfort and a sense of sorrow. Nothing had changed since she left. She had expected her mother to have made some adjustments with the money she received from her arranged marriage, but it seemed that her father’s influence kept things as they were. The paintings on the walls were still the same buttercream shades, and the art corner she had made as a child, filled with crayon drawings, was still there.

Sophia walked over to a chair in the far corner of the living room, a one-sitter upholstered in scarlet fabric. Its color was a deep red, almost the shade of blood, which made it blend into the surroundings. She ran her fingers along the torn fabric on the right armrest, sliding her hand through a hidden gap. When she pulled it back, she was holding a few dollar bills.

“You were always sneaky, even back then,” her mother said with a knowing smile, watching her daughter.

Just then, her father’s voice called from upstairs. “Vivian, have you seen my glasses? I swear I left them right—” His words faltered when he saw Sophia standing in the living room.

“Baby Soph?” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

Sophia’s heart squeezed at the sound of her childhood nickname. Tears sprang to her eyes as she rushed to her father, throwing her arms around him.

The hug lasted longer than she expected, but eventually, her father pulled back to look at her.

“You look good, my darling,” he said, his brown eyes glistening with emotion. He reached up to touch her cheek gently.

“I could say the same for you, Dad,” Sophia replied, her voice thick with unshed tears. “You look better.” It was true. Her father had been battling a thrombotic stroke, and the family had spent nearly all their savings on his treatment. Yet, with the help of specialized professionals—funded by Ethan—he was improving. The fact that he was no longer relying on a walking stick made his progress even more believable.

Her father smiled, his face lighting up with gratitude. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said softly. “We have a lot of catching up to do.” He took her hand gently, guiding her toward the living room upstairs, with her mother following closely behind.

As they ascended the stairs, Sophia felt a rush of emotions. She was home.