"Veronica, sweetie…"
A distant voice echoed through the fog of my mind, soft and far away.
I stirred, blinking against the blur clouding my vision. My body felt heavy, sick, like I'd been spun in a washing machine and left to dry in the sun. I pushed myself upright, bracing against the wall, nausea curling in my gut.
I glanced around. No one. Just the echo of my subconscious playing tricks again.
"Bitch, you're awake."
Elainese's voice sliced through the silence like a blade. She stood in the doorway, smug and radiant in my favorite summer floral dress.
"My dress," I murmured, disbelief thick in my throat.
She twirled, admiring herself. "Mom and I packed your suitcases. I found a few outfits I liked, so I'm keeping them. Also, I asked Dad to redecorate your room. It's going to be my Vogue Room—perfect for content creation. You don't live here anymore, remember?"
I staggered to my feet, gripping the window frame for support. My legs wobbled beneath me, but I pushed past her, my eyes locking on the suitcases stacked neatly at the bottom of the stairs.
I followed the sound of voices into the kitchen. My parents were dressed to the nines, clearly heading to some event.
"The brat's awake," my father muttered with a sneer, alerting Mom and Elainese's boyfriend.
"You're kicking me out?" My voice cracked, barely above a whisper.
Mom didn't even flinch. "We just think it's best for your sister if you stay in the dorms. You've got a full-ride scholarship, honey," she said, pouring herself a glass of champagne like she was toasting my exile.
"And for the holidays?" I asked, my heart pounding.
"Not here," Dad said flatly. "I've done enough for you. Figure it out." He patted my shoulder as he passed, like I was some stranger on the street.
I looked to Matthew—Elainese's boyfriend. He gave a small nod, sympathy flickering in his eyes. But it vanished the moment Elainese called his name.
"Oh, and when you leave, drop the car keys on the counter," Mom added, slipping into her fur coat. "It's your sister's now."
"You can't do this! I paid $400 toward that 2005 Tahoe!" I shouted, storming into the living room.
Dad spun around, his footsteps thunderous. My instincts screamed at me to run, but my body froze.
You're dead.
I closed my eyes, bracing for the blow. A punch. A slap. A kick. I was too tired to run anymore. If it was coming, let it come. Maybe this time, it would end everything.
"Mr. Thompson!"
Matthew's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. My eyes flew open just in time to see him grab my father's arm. But Dad shoved him aside like he was weightless, sending him crashing into the wall.
Then he turned to me.
His face twisted into something I'd never seen before. I'd seen him angry—but this? This was something else. Murderous. Like he wanted to erase me from existence.
One step.
Two steps.
Run.
Veronica, please run!
But I couldn't. My legs wouldn't move. I stood there, helpless, as his hand slammed into my chest with a force that sent me flying. I crashed to the floor, my back and head slamming against the hardwood. The air whooshed from my lungs. I gasped, but nothing came. Breathing felt like trying to inhale through a straw filled with cement.
I wanted to scream. But my voice was gone. My body, numb.
Then came the first kick—sharp, brutal, bone-jarring. Pain exploded through me like a live wire.
Then another.
And another.
Each blow was a thunderclap, a lightning strike, a volcanic eruption of agony. My body convulsed with every impact, my mind slipping into a haze of fire and darkness.
"Mr. Thompson—STOP!"
Matthew's voice echoed again, distant and desperate.
Through slitted eyes, I saw him grab a vase and hurl it at my father. It shattered against his head with a deafening crash, shards flying like fireworks. Dad crumpled to the floor, the sound of his fall a sickening thud.
I wanted to watch that moment on repeat forever.
"Matthew, are you crazy?!" Elainese shrieked.
"Raymond!" Mom screamed, rushing to Dad's side.
"No, Elainese—are you crazy?" Matthew's voice shook with fury as he knelt beside me, cradling me gently against his chest. "Are you and your mom out of your goddamn minds?"
"What are you doing?" Elainese demanded, stepping toward us.
Matthew's body tensed. He stood, still holding me close. "You need help. And I'm not sticking around to watch this anymore."
"Baby—"
"I'm done," he snapped, cutting her off. He turned and strode toward the front door.
Oh, how I wanted to see the look on her face. But I couldn't move. Not even to gloat.
I heard the door open. Felt myself being laid gently onto something soft—leather, maybe. A seatbelt clicked into place. The door shut. Footsteps retreated, then returned. Another door opened.
The engine roared to life, drowning out Elainese's screams. Matthew didn't look back.
And just like that, we were gone.
I could only hope this was it.
That this was finally… freedom.