BETWEEN TWO WORLDS

Chapter 5: The box

Sarah’s pov

I walked into my room and shut the door behind me, finally silence at last.

No awkward conversations, mysterious warnings and parents pretending everything was fine when it obviously wasn’t.

I let out a deep breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding, dropped my bag by the door and threw myself on the bed.

I was genuinely tired, not the physical kind but the kind that seems like you’ve been carrying an invisible weight. Yeah, that kind of tired.

What a week.

Actually scratch that, what a disaster! A few days ago nobody knew who I was. Now I’m trending on social media, moms acting weird, dads acting even weirder and to top it all Kelvin Harrison has managed to become a permanent resident in my head.

How lovely.

I closed my eyes, hoping that if I stayed still long enough, my brain would finally give me a break. Well that didn’t work out.

It seemed like the more I tried to avoid the thoughts, the more they came rushing back.

Mom, dad, Kelvin, Richard Harrison. It felt like everyone knew something except me.

I picked up my phone, I clearly needed a distraction from all this and Anything at all was better than sitting there with my thoughts.

The moment I unlocked it, my screen lit up with tons of notifications.

*You've been tagged in a post.

*New comment on your video.

*Someone mentioned you.

*3 new follow requests.

My stomach sank. I didn't even need to open any of them, I already knew what they were about.

The video, of course .

Out of curiosity, I tapped on the notifications and as expected the views had doubled since the last time I checked.

Thousands of comments flooded the screen. Some were laughing, some were making jokes.

Others had already decided exactly who I was without knowing a single thing about me.

"She embarrassed herself."

"She's obviously chasing his money."

"Imagine showing up dressed like that."

I exited the app almost immediately and locked my screen.

And for a while, I just sat up staring at the ceiling.

The comments were gone, but for some reason the words were still there.

No matter how many times I replayed everything in my head, it still wasn’t making any sense.

The scholarship event, the drink spill, Kelvin, mom warning me to stay away from him, dad refusing to answer my questions.

Then Kelvin asking me if my father had ever mentioned Richard Harrison.

Who the hell was Richard Harrison?, and why did everyone react the moment they heard my last name.

This couldn’t be a coincidence anymore. There had to be something connecting our families, something nobody wanted me to know.

I sighed and stared at the ceiling again.

I really wanted to believe it was all one big misunderstanding, but deep down I knew it wasn’t.

For a moment, I tried convincing myself to stop thinking about it, but it didn't work.

The more I tried to make sense of everything, the more confused I became. Then I heard voices from the living room.

At first, I didn’t pay much attention. Mom and Dad talked all the time.

Sometimes they argued, Sometimes they didn't.

It wasn't anything unusual.

But then I heard a name that quickly got my attention.

"Harrison.”

My heart skipped a beat.

I quietly walked over to the door, staying close enough to hear what the conversation was about.

"Sarah’s starting to ask questions," Mom said.

Dad replied, but his voice was too low for me to hear.

"You can't keep avoiding this forever."

"I know."

"No, you don't."

Her voice sounded tired.

"If you did, you would've told her the truth by now."

My stomach tightened.

The truth?The truth about what?

I held my breath, hoping one of them would say something else, Anything.

Just one sentence that would finally make all of this make sense, Instead, the apartment fell quiet.

A few seconds later, I heard footsteps moving down the hallway.

A bedroom door opened, then it immediately clicked shut.

After that, nothing.

No voices or movements. Just silence.

I stayed where I was for another moment.

My heart was beating so loudly I was sure someone outside could hear it.

A thought crossed my mind.

What if I stopped waiting for answers?What if I looked for them myself?

No, this was a terrible idea.

But I mean, I’d spent the last few days asking questions and all I’ve gotten were warnings, half answers and silence.

I Sighed.

If nobody was willing to tell me the truth, maybe it was time I found it myself.

I stood there for a moment longer, waiting for something to change my mind.

But nothing did.

Going through my parents' things wasn't exactly something they taught you to do.

But then again, Keeping secrets from your daughter wasn't exactly Parent of the Year material either.

I looked towards the hallway, then back at my door.

Right now I had two choices.

Walk away, Or finally start looking for answers myself.

I already knew which one I was going to choose.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I quietly opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.

The apartment was silent.

I glanced toward my parents' room, the door was shut.

Good.

I took a slow breath and walked over to the door. My fingers wrapped around the handle.

It turned easily and unlocked.

I slipped inside and shut the door behind me as softly as I could.

The room looked exactly the way it always did. Nothing seemed out of place.

For a second, I wondered if I'd made a huge mistake.

"What exactly am I looking for?" I whispered.

I started with the most obvious places.

The bedside drawers, but there was nothing. Just random papers and old receipts.

The bookshelf next.

Old bills, medicine bottles and a few notebooks I didn’t bother opening.

But there was nothing useful.

I moved to the wardrobe next.

Carefully, I pushed the clothes aside, hoping something would stand out.

But nothing.

Just neatly folded clothes, a few pairs of shoes and Mom's jewellery box sitting on the bottom shelf.

I looked around one more time and still nothing.

I let out a frustrated sigh. Maybe I really was wasting my time.

As I was about to leave, something caught my eye.

At the top of the wardrobe, tucked behind a stack of old blankets was a small wooden box.

It was covered in a thin layer of dust,

Like nobody had touched it in years.

My stomach tightened.

I slowly reached up and pulled it down. It turned out it was heavier than I expected.

There wasn't a lock, just a small brass clasp.

I stared at it for a long moment.

This was it.

Whatever my parents have been hiding, Part of me felt like it was inside this box and I knew Once I opened it there was no going back

I took a slow breath, Then I lifted the lid.