"Okay… now come downstairs. The dinner is almost ready. Go check the rice, see if it's cooked," her mom said.
"Yes!" Kyra replied. She checked the pot and called out, "It's almost ready, Mom."
"I'm going to my room. Call me when dinner is ready," Kyra said as she turned toward her room.
"Okay, okay. Go, but don't only watch your mobile. You should start early like others and check the syllabus of the final year of your senior grade," Her mom said while watching TV.
"Okay, Mom," Kyra replied and went to her room.
"Lumina… what are you doing? Why have you made such a mess of the room? Clean the bed. I'm tired and want to rest," Kyra shouted angrily at her sister as she entered and saw the mess.
"Oh, sis! I'm going out with my friends tomorrow on an outing and was packing my suitcase. Please do the cleaning, my dear sister. I'm too busy to do it," Lumina replied while trying on dresses in front of the mirror.
"But why should I? This is the mess you made, and I just helped in the kitchen. You don't do anything at all, and now even your mess I should clean?" Kyra snapped after listening to her explanation.
"Sis… why are you snapping at Lumina? Just do it. How much time will it take? You're making a fuss over nothing. Can't you see I'm talking with Tyra on video call? You are the elder sister," Kyra's youngest sister retorted, rolling her eyes in frustration.
"You both…" Kyra trembled with rage as she pointed at them, looking at the younger sisters she had raised with love and care when her parents were too busy to spare time for them.
But in the end, she said nothing and started cleaning the room.
After finishing, she went directly toward the rooftop. As she climbed the stairs, her mom's voice sounded behind her.
"Dear Kyra! Don't forget to bring the clothes."
Kyra paused for a second. Her fingers clenched around the railing. Taking a deep breath, she replied crisply, "Okay, Mom."
As days passed, Kyra's fear about the results resurfaced, and finally the day of her Senior Grade 1 result came.
That morning, Kyra went to school with her parents. As she entered the classroom, her hands trembled with nervousness. She already knew how terrible her results would be.
"Good morning, ma'am," Kyra greeted her class teacher, Mrs. Moore.
"Oh… it's Kyra. Come, sit with your parents," Mrs. Moore replied as she sat at the desk. Kyra followed with her parents.
"Sir, is something wrong with Kyra recently, or is she sick again or perhaps a relapse?" Mrs. Moore asked as she took out Kyra's file and handed it to her father. "Her results this time are not that good."
Kyra's head remained down as she clenched her hands.
"What? Kyra's result is poor?" her mom asked, gazing at Kyra.
"Yes. She only got 62% overall with a B grade. Even though it's enough for choosing science in her last senior year, as the topper of the entire class, even the subject teachers were shocked by her performance this year," Mrs. Moore said, sensing the tense atmosphere and trying to soften it.
"No, teacher. We didn't know anything. Even Kyra said her exams went well," Kyra's mother replied grimly, tightly holding Kyra's hand under the desk until red marks appeared.
But Kyra felt nothing. She only kept her head bowed.
After the conversation ended, Kyra walked out silently with her parents.
The walk back felt longer than usual. The school corridor echoed with parents congratulating their children, laughter brushing past Kyra like invisible knives.
Outside, the afternoon sun was warm, yet her hands stayed cold.
In the car, no one spoke.
Her mother stared out the window, jaw tight. Her father's fingers tapped against the steering wheel, the cigarette smell already filling the space. Kyra sat between them, her report card resting on her knees like a sentence already passed.
By the time the house gate appeared, her chest felt hollow.
At home, as soon as Kyra entered the living room, her mother slapped her.
"Kyra, why are your results so poor? Have we mistreated you anywhere? I never even allowed you to do chores, only told you to study, and even this you can't do?"
Her father sat on the sofa, lit a cigarette, and said coldly, "What were you doing all year? Sixty percent? With these marks you might as well repeat the class. Do you think earning money is easy? I put all my effort into raising you three, and here you are getting marks like a loser."
"Answer us. Are you mute or what?" her mother slapped her again aggressively.
Kyra finally raised her face. The shocking swelling and red handprint showed the force her mother used, yet her parents looked indifferent, as if they were used to it.
"Mom, you know I had TB and liver complications at the start of this academic year. My basics weren't built, and the backlog kept increasing till half-yearly. Then when I tried to complete the backlog, my present lessons became backlogged too, and like this my studies were never completed," Kyra replied, lowering her eyelashes to hide the pain and tears.
"So what? You were cured before the mid-year exam. If you had used the remaining time, you would have made it," her mom snapped again.
"Yes, sis! You could have done it. Well, let it go, Mom, don't be angry now. Just let sis focus on her new session. She will definitely do better than before," Lumina came and persuaded her mother.
"Sis, apologize to Mom and Dad. Why are you standing there like a statue?" Lumina said irritably.
"Ah… yes. I'm sorry, Mom, Dad. I will definitely do better. I won't let you down. It was my fault. I will study properly now and won't disgrace you," Kyra said, trying to keep her voice clear though it sounded nasal.
"Go. Go to your room. Don't come out for lunch or dinner. You are confined today," her mom commanded angrily.
"Okay, Mom. I will reflect," Kyra replied and went to her room.
Kyra walked past the silent dining table. The smell of food drifted from the kitchen, but it only twisted her stomach tighter. Each step toward her room felt heavier, like the house itself was pressing down on her shoulders.
The corridor lights flickered softly as she pushed her door open.
Inside, her youngest sister Ava was sitting and watching a K-drama.
Hearing the door, she glanced at Kyra once, her gaze paused for a moment on Kyra's face but then she re-focused back on the screen.
Kyra said nothing as she silently went to her bed, lay down, pulled the blanket over herself, and buried her face in the pillow as she silently cried.
Thinking about her mother's scolding and her father's stern face, her heart ached as she swallowed all her sobs.
That night passed without dreams.
The ceiling fan hummed above her, counting every second she couldn't sleep. Tears dried on her cheeks only to return again. At some point, exhaustion dragged her under.
Morning crept in quietly through the curtains.
The next day, when Kyra walked out of her room, she saw her mom talking with her so-called best friend, Mille, laughing and joking.
"Mille dear, what were your marks?" her mom asked affectionately.
"Aunty, it was 61.45%. My mom scolded me for a whole hour, you know, but what can I do? The paper was so tough this time," Mille replied shyly.
"Oh, it's okay, dear. You can do better next year. It isn't the end. Don't be depressed. Just look at Kyra. Even after sending her to more tuition than you and the library, her marks are still low," her mom muttered while putting fruit slices on Mille's plate.
"No, Aunt. Maybe Kyra has some difficulty. You shouldn't always scold her. Let's skip the topic," Mille said and changed the subject.
Kyra watched silently, feeling chilled.
Her fingers curled against her sleeve. The house felt smaller, the laughter sharper, like she didn't belong in the same room anymore.
Even breathing felt cautious.
She looked at the girl called her best friend and saw how easily she lied, how easily she smiled, and how easily she had pushed Kyra into this abyss.
Lumina came and said, "Oh, sis, what are you doing here? Go sit with Mille. She came to take you to the library. I really envy you for having a BFF like Mille."
Kyra lowered her eyes to hide the pain. Her heart churned with nausea as she remembered how Mille had used and betrayed her.
After hearing the noise, both Mille and her mom looked over, and silence filled the air.
Her mom snorted angrily while Mille broke the silence, "Oh dear, what happened to your face? Aunt, did you hit her?"
"Yes. Don't you know how low her performance was?" her mom replied.
"Oh… yes, but Kyra didn't say anything to me," Mille said, pulling Kyra toward the gate. "Aunt, don't worry. I'll talk to her and take care of her. We're getting late. I'll send her home before evening."
Kyra stayed silent, letting Mille pull her like a doll.
Only when Mille nudged her did Kyra snap out of her daze. She met Mille's eyes and saw the threat hidden inside. Her heart trembled, yet she smiled brightly, guilt mixed into it.
She went back to her mom, held her hand, and said sweetly, acting pitiful, "Yes, Mom. Don't be angry now. I've learned my lesson. Look, in the upcoming first semester, I'll definitely get first place. Don't be angry at me, it breaks my heart. Love you, Mom… please."
Kyra hugged and kissed her mother, smiling brightly.
Mrs. William finally softened. She patted Kyra's head and said, "Okay, go. Come home early. I'll make your favorite pancakes. And remember to eat something outside."
"Okay, Mom. Thank you. You are the best," Kyra said before going to Mille and waving back.
Kyra let herself be pulled along, a doll on a string. As the door clicked shut behind them, the "sweet daughter" smile didn't drop—it couldn't. It was frozen onto her face like a scar.
She looked at Mille, the girl who had watched her drown and called it a swimming lesson.
Mille's eyes weren't kind; they were calculating, reminding Kyra of every stolen dollar and every dark secret.
"You're a good actress, Kyra," Mille whispered once they were out of earshot.
Kyra didn't answer.
She just kept walking toward the library, toward the books that were her only ladder out of this hell, and toward the phone in her pocket that would soon start buzzing with Lucifer's demands.
She had learned the hardest lesson of all: in this house, the truth was a liability, and a smile was the only armor she had left.