Chapter 2 An escape plan

The car ride home felt thick. I sat in the backseat, near the window, staring out as familiar streets blurred past.

Aunt Martha was the one driving the car, and Tonia sat closer to her in the front seat. I was always shouted at for accepting a free ride from them. Why would they ride someone like me, even sitting comfortably? I was denied the time to learn to drive. Tonia always reminds me of my wretched life, there is no need to learn it since I would never be able to own a car of my own. I was always forced to bow respectfully to thank them after a successful ride with them. Though it's rare, except for an important matter like this one.

Aunt Martha's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, her jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitching. Tonia kept shooting glances at me through the rearview mirror, her eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction.

When we pulled into the driveway of our home, I bowed to both of them, thanking them for the ride.

I was ignored.

The silence was deafening, followed by heavy glares from both of them.

"That thing inside you," Aunt Martha spat as soon as we crossed the threshold,

"It's getting removed tomorrow."

The words hit me hard. I pressed my back against the closed door, my hands instinctively moving to my still-flat stomach.

"The only reason it's still there is because your uncle isn't home yet. He wanted to see for himself." Her voice dripped with disgust.

"Though God knows why he'd want to waste time.When there is an obvious solution to this abomination."

"You're a disgrace," she continued, her voice rising.

"A worthless, shameful girl who couldn't keep her legs closed. What kind of decent woman doesn't even remember who she spread them for?"

"Tell me again," Aunt Martha stepped closer, her breath hot against my face.

"Who did this to you? Were you raped? Because that's the only way I can even begin to understand how my own niece could be so... filthy."

I closed my eyes, desperately searching my fragmented memories. The flashes came in pieces. A voice asking if I was sure, waiting for my breathless "yes."

"Answer me, Kaira!" Aunt Martha's voice cut through the living room.

Tonia leaned forward from the couch, her eyes bright with malicious curiosity.

"Come on, Kaira. Tell us all about your little adventure. Was he at least rich? Or did you throw yourself away on some nobody?"

"I..." The word stuck in my throat.

If I tell them it wasn't rape, that I was willing... it will only make things worse. They'll call me a whore, a slut who deserved everything coming to her. It's better to stay quiet, to endure this until...

"I'm not sure," I finally said, hating myself for the cowardice in my voice.

"Not sure?" Tonia's voice was filled with disbelief.

"Mom, can you hear her? She's 'not sure' if she was even raped."

"I'm sorry," I murmured, the words barely audible.

But Aunt Martha's rage had moved beyond words. Her face was flushed deep red, her hands shaking with fury.

"Tonia," she called.

"Go to the kitchen. Bring me something to teach this little slut a lesson with. My hand is too good for her, and I don't want to dirty it on such a disgusting being."

Terror shot through me...

"Please, Aunt Martha, I.." I was cut off as soon as I started to beg.

"Now, Tonia!"

Tonia bounced off the couch, her excitement was palpable. She returned moments later with a mop stick, having yanked off the fabric head.

"Perfect," Aunt Martha said, testing the weight of the wooden handle in her hands.

The first blow caught me across the shoulders, sending me stumbling forward. The second hit my back, and I cried out despite trying to stay silent. By the third strike, I was on my knees, my arms wrapped protectively around my middle.

"Look at her," Tonia jeered, her voice bright with cruel laughter.

"A bastard protecting her bastard baby. How touching."

The hits kept coming..

I've become a punching bag in this house. Even at my age, even after everything I've done for them. And now I've given them even more reason to continue. If I don't stop this now, when will I ever? Especially with Tonia enjoying every second of my pain.

It angers me, hurting..

I raised my head to glare at Tonia, and our eyes met. She smirked and gave a little wave.

And just then..

"Please stop this, Mom!"

Tony's voice cut through the air. He stood in the doorway, his face pale but determined. He stepped between me and his mother, his arms spread wide.

"Out of my way, Tony." Aunt Martha warned angrily.

"I'm not going anywhere, Mom. Not until you let her be."

The living room fell silent except for my ragged breathing. Tony had never stood up to his mother before. He'd always been kind to me in small ways like slipping me extra food when the others weren't looking, helping with chores when I was exhausted from work, but he'd never openly defied his family.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tonia growled, stepping forward to push her brother aside. But Tony was stronger, and when he pushed back, she tumbled to the floor.

"You pushed your sister because of Kaira?" Aunt Martha screamed at him.

"Your twin sister? When did that start?"

Tony glanced at Tonia, who was glaring at me with pure hatred from her position on the carpet. But he did not apologize.

"Mom, she's human like us. Take a break, please?" His voice was quiet but firm.

"She's someone's child too. Your sister's child."

Aunt Martha stared at Tony as if he'd grown a second head to talk back at her.

"What..?" She muttered in surprise.

Tony helped me to my feet, his touch was gentle despite the tension crackling around us.

"Come on," he murmured, guiding me toward my room.

After I was escorted to my room, Tony left soon. The shouting erupted. Aunt Martha's voice, Tonia's accusations, Tony's quieter but no less determined responses. The words blurred together into a mix of rage and disappointment.

* * *

Miles across the city, Damian James stood outside the door of a private hospital room, his hand hovering over the handle.

"Wait outside," he told his secretary.

The chairman's eyes opened as Damian stepped into the room.

"Dad, I'm here," Damian said, in a calm voice.

"Damian." The name came out rough, followed by a cough that shook the chairman's entire frame.

"Have you thought about it? You're here because of it, right?"

Damian said nothing, but his silence was answer enough.

"She's beautiful," The chairman continued, desperation creeping into his voice.

"Sarah's family has excellent connections, it would benefit both companies."

The words hung in the air between them. Damian let out a slow breath.

"Is that your only reason, Dad? because of the company?" Damien said.

"I thought you wanted me to have a family of my own." He added.

"You are right. I just want you to be married, can't wait to have a grandchild, and for the future of our company." The chairman replied.

"Bring her home. I know there's someone right?" The chairman asked, curiously.

"I'm sorry, Dad. Please give me more time to think about it."

"When?" The chairman blurted out.

"Until I'm dead? Will you only get married then? You're the heir, Damian. I don't have much time left!"

He struggled to sit up straighter, his eyes boring into Damien's face.

"What about an heir? You need to produce the next generation. Start with marriage, for God's sake."

"Sarah... don't you like her? You two have been close since childhood."

Damien's jaw tightened almost unnoticed.

"Dad. I'll take care of this soon. Give me some time." Damian replied.

"You have a month, or I will do things my way." The chairman warned.

Damian stood to leave, bowing slightly to the chairman before heading out.

Suddenly, the memory came again, clearer this time.

His expression was perplexed.

* * *

The shouting continued beyond the door. I sat on the edge of my bed, my body aching from the beating, my mind racing with possibilities and fears.

Through the walls, I could hear Tonia's voice rising above the others.

"Are we just going to leave her in there resting? Just because Tony said so? While we wait for Dad, she should go to the grocery store and get something for lunch."

"There's food in the house," Tony said, in a weary voice but still defensive.

"There isn't!" Tonia retorted. Her lie was so obvious.

"She should go get something for us!" She added, loudly.

"How could she, in her condition..."

"Her condition be damn!" Tonia interrupted. Her voice filled with rage, my hatred.

"Let me finish..." Tony started, but got interrupted soon.

"Tonia is right." Aunt Martha's voice cut through Tony's protest.

"How dare she rest after everything she's put us through?"

"Go get her, Tonia."

"Wait," Tony stopped her quickly.

"I'll get her." He said.

"You better!" Tonia replied.

I heard footsteps approaching my door and felt something shift inside me.

A growing determination.

"Yes. Before Uncle comes back, I should escape. I should run from this hell." I thought to myself, my heart pounding with a mixture of terror and hope.

* * *