THE GIRL WITH NOTHING
My stomach growled for the third time that morning.
I pressed a hand against it and looked around the tiny kitchen, hoping—praying—that I had somehow missed something.
There was nothing.
The cupboards were almost completely empty. A few grains of rice sat at the bottom of one container, and there was half a loaf of bread on the counter that I knew better than to touch.
That belonged to Mrs. Houston.
Everything belonged to Mrs. Houston.
I opened another cupboard.
Nothing.
I checked the shelf.
Nothing.
“Come on,” I whispered. “There has to be something.”
I was so hungry that my stomach actually hurt.
Then I saw it.
A small plate pushed behind an old cooking pot.
My eyes brightened.
Food.
I quickly pulled it out.
The excitement lasted approximately three seconds.
I sniffed it.
My nose wrinkled.
The food smelled… questionable.
Very questionable.
I stared at it.
Maybe it wasn’t that bad.
Maybe hunger was making me dramatic.
I picked up a spoon and was just about to take a bite when I heard footsteps behind me.
“Kira.”
I froze.
I slowly turned around.
Alora stood in the doorway, staring at the plate in my hands.
Her nose scrunched immediately.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
I frowned. “What?”
She pointed at the food.
“That thing is dead.”
I looked down at the plate.
“It’s food.”
“It used to be food.”
I rolled my eyes. “Alora, I’m hungry.”
She walked closer and leaned toward the plate before immediately pulling her head back.
“Kira, I swear I can smell that from here.”
Despite myself, a tiny laugh escaped me.
“Then don’t smell it.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
My smile disappeared.
I looked down at the food again.
“We don’t have anything else.”
Alora’s expression softened.
She knew.
She always knew.
But before she could say anything, the kitchen door suddenly swung open.
Mrs. Houston walked in.
Her eyes immediately landed on the plate in my hands.
“What are you doing?”
I straightened.
“I was hungry.”
She marched toward me and snatched the plate from my hands.
“You were hungry?”
I stared at her.
“Yes.”
She scoffed and dumped the food into the bin.
My stomach twisted painfully as I watched it disappear.
“You’re always hungry,” she muttered.
She pointed toward the floor.
“Go wash it again.”
I blinked.
“But I already washed the floor this morning.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Did I ask you if you washed the floor?”
“No.”
“Then why are you standing there?”
Alora stepped forward.
“But she literally just—”
“Alora.”
I cut her off quickly.
She looked at me.
I shook my head.
Don’t.
She opened her mouth again.
I sighed.
“Just leave it.”
“Kira—”
“And do what?” I snapped.
The words came out harsher than I intended.
Alora went quiet.
I looked away.
My chest tightened.
I hated snapping at her.
She was the only person in this miserable place who actually cared about me.
But what was I supposed to do?
Run away?
Go where?
I didn’t have money.
I didn’t have family.
I didn’t even know what waited for me outside this village.
So I picked up the bucket.
“I’ll wash it again.”
Mrs. Houston smiled smugly.
“Good.”
She turned and walked away.
I waited until I heard her footsteps disappear before I let out a long breath.
Alora immediately came over.
“You know I hate them, right?”
I glanced at her.
“What?”
“Them. This entire family.” She lowered her voice dramatically. “Especially Mrs. Houston.”
I almost smiled.
“Keep your voice down.”
“Why? Is she hiding inside the bucket?”
I laughed despite myself.
Alora grinned.
“There. That’s better.”
“What?”
“You smiled.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You’re annoying.”
“And you’re welcome.”
She sat beside me on the floor.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she sighed.
“I don’t understand how you survive here.”
I shrugged.
“I don’t know either.”
“No, seriously, Kira. Mr. and Mrs. Houston treat you like you’re some kind of servant.”
I stared at the water in the bucket.
“Because I am.”
“You’re not.”
I looked at her.
She was serious now.
“You’re my friend,” she said. “You’re family to me.”
Something warm settled in my chest.
I smiled faintly.
“Thanks.”
She nudged my shoulder.
“Besides, if they try to sell you or something, I’ll fight them.”
I laughed.
“You?”
“Yes, me.”
“You can’t even kill a cockroach.”
“That cockroach was unusually aggressive.”
I burst out laughing.
For a few seconds, everything felt normal.
Then a familiar voice ruined it.
“Well, well, well.”
I froze.
Alora’s smile disappeared.
We turned around.
Daniella Houston stood at the entrance.
The Houstons’ only daughter.
She wore a beautiful pink dress and held a small mirror in one hand.
Daniella looked us up and down.
Then she smiled.
Not kindly.
“What are the two little beggars laughing about?”
Alora’s jaw tightened.
“We weren’t talking to you.”
Daniella raised an eyebrow.
“Did I ask?”
I stood up.
“Just leave us alone, Daniella.”
She walked closer.
“You know, Kira, I’ve always wondered something.”
I said nothing.
She circled me slowly.
“How does it feel knowing you’re basically useless?”
Alora stepped forward.
“Daniella—”
She pushed Alora’s shoulder.
Alora stumbled backward.
Something inside me snapped.
“Don’t touch her.”
Daniella looked at me.
For a second, I could have sworn her expression changed.
Then she laughed.
“Oh?”
She stepped closer.
“And what are you going to do?”
I didn’t know.
But suddenly, my body felt strange.
My heart began beating faster.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The air around me seemed to grow warmer.
I stared at Daniella.
For one brief second, her face looked… different.
Almost distorted.
I blinked.
Everything returned to normal.
I frowned.
What was that?
“Kira?”
Alora’s voice pulled me back.
I looked at her.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded slowly.
“Yeah.”
But I wasn’t.
Because somewhere deep inside me, something had moved.
Something I’d never felt before.
Something powerful.
Something that felt like it had been sleeping.
Waiting.
⸻
SOMEWHERE FAR AWAY
An old woman opened her eyes.
She sat inside a dark room surrounded by candles.
A bowl of water rested before her.
The surface suddenly rippled.
The image of a young girl appeared.
Kira.
The old woman’s expression softened.
“Sixteen years,” she whispered.
She placed her hand over the bowl.
“She has awakened.”
The candles flickered violently.
The woman closed her eyes.
“She doesn’t know who she is yet.”
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
“And she must not know.”
She looked toward the window.
“The time isn’t right.”
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the bowl.
“But I will protect her.”
The image of Kira disappeared.
The old woman whispered one final warning into the darkness.
“No one touches my granddaughter.”
⸻
I had no idea that someone was watching over me.
I didn’t know that the strange feeling inside my body wasn’t normal.
And I certainly didn’t know that my life was about to become much worse.
Because that evening, while I was scrubbing the same floor for the third time, I heard my father and Mrs. Houston whispering in the next room.
I wasn’t supposed to hear them.
But I did.
And one sentence made my blood run cold.
“The traders will come for her tomorrow.”
