Chapter 7
1262 Words
I was still standing in front of the mirror when Lyssara’s voice broke through my thoughts.
“Okay… I’m done.”
I turned, expecting something normal.
Then I paused.
“What are you wearing?”
She blinked at me, confused, then looked down at herself like she genuinely didn’t see the problem. “What? I’m dressed.”
A small laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. I shook my head slowly. “No… no, you’re not going out with me like that.”
Her expression changed immediately. “Excuse me?”
I stepped closer, my eyes moving over her outfit again. “Lyssara, be serious.”
“I am serious,” she shot back. “This dress is expensive.”
“I don’t care if it cost a fortune,” I said, my tone calm but firm. “It’s not it.”
She folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at me. “Not it for who? You?”
“Yes. Me.”
She scoffed under her breath. “Wow. So now I have to dress to meet your standards?”
I smirked a little. “You should feel lucky.”
“Zarelle..”
“Come here,” I cut in, reaching for her wrist and pulling her gently toward my closet. “You cannot follow me out looking like you’re about to attend a prayer meeting.”
She resisted instantly, digging her heels in. “No. I am not wearing your clothes.”
I stopped and turned to face her fully. “And what exactly is wrong with my clothes?”
She gave me a long look. “You really want me to answer that?”
“Yes.”
She pointed straight at my closet. “Because your clothes are barely clothes. Everything is either too short, too tight, too open… or all three at once.”
I let out a soft gasp, placing my hand on my chest. “That is called confidence.”
“That is called stress,” she corrected.
I rolled my eyes, already turning back to my closet. “Whatever. You’re still not wearing that.”
I ran my fingers through my dresses, pushing fabrics aside until one caught my attention. I pulled it out and held it up.
“This.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “No.”
I looked at her. “Why not?”
“Because I know you,” she said simply. “And I know that dress is not safe.”
A small laugh escaped me. “You’ll survive.”
“I don’t want to spend the night adjusting myself every five minutes.”
I stepped closer, lowering my voice slightly. “You won’t have to. Just trust me.”
She stared at me.
Long enough for me to know she was already giving in.
Then she sighed. “You’re stressful.”
“And you love me.”
“That’s the problem.”
I smiled faintly and handed her the dress.
She took it reluctantly and walked off to change, still muttering under her breath.
I turned back to the mirror, adjusting my hair again, smoothing my outfit down. My reflection stared back at me, calm, composed… but there was something else there too.
Something I didn’t want to look at for too long.
Behind me, Lyssara moved around, the sound of fabric shifting filling the room.
For a moment, everything felt normal again.
Familiar.
Safe.
Then—
A knock.
Soft.
But firm enough to cut through everything.
Lyssara paused. “Did you hear that?”
I didn’t answer.
Because I had already recognized the voice that came next.
“My darling?”
My chest tightened slightly.
“Dad.”
Lyssara moved quickly, straightening herself, suddenly more composed.
“Come in,” I called, already walking toward the door.
It opened, and my father stepped inside.
The moment I saw him, I smiled and moved into his arms without thinking. “Daddy.”
He held me tightly, warm and familiar. “My baby girl.”
“I didn’t know you were back,” I said, pulling away slightly to look at him.
“I just got in,” he replied, his eyes scanning me carefully. “And I see you’re already dressed.”
I gave a small smile. “You know me.”
His gaze shifted past me, landing on Lyssara.
“Oh,” he said. “You’re here.”
Lyssara smiled politely. “Good evening, sir.”
“Good evening,” he replied. “I didn’t know you had come.”
“We got distracted talking,” she said lightly.
He looked back at me, one brow lifting. “So distracted that you forgot to come and check on me?”
I winced a little. “Daddy…”
He shook his head, but there was no real anger in it. “It’s fine.”
For a second, everything felt easy again.
Then his expression changed.
Just slightly.
But I noticed.
“I came to tell you something,” he said.
I straightened without meaning to. “What is it?”
“I’ll be stepping out again tonight. There’s a meeting I need to attend.”
“So soon?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes. I may not be back until morning.”
Something in me shifted at that.
A quiet kind of awareness settling in.
“But you’ll be fine,” he added. “You’re not alone.”
I didn’t respond.
I didn’t need to.
We both knew who he was talking about.
“He’s here for you,” my father continued. “Make sure you go everywhere with him.”
A small pause.
Then I nodded. “I will.”
“Good.”
He reached out, brushing his hand lightly over my hair, a gesture he’d done since I was younger.
“I’ll send something to your account before I leave,” he added.
I let out a small breath of laughter. “You don’t have to.”
“I know,” he said. “But I will.”
I stepped closer and hugged him again. “Thank you.”
He held me for a moment longer this time.
Then slowly let go.
“Take care of yourself,” he said quietly. “And don’t look for trouble.”
I smiled faintly. “I never do.”
He looked at me in that way that said he didn’t believe me at all.
And honestly… he shouldn’t.
Lyssara tried to hide her smile.
My father turned toward the door, already stepping out.
Then he stopped.
“And Zarelle.”
I looked up. “Yes?”
He held my gaze.
Longer than usual.
“Be careful.”
Something about the way he said it felt different.
Heavier.
Not just a warning.
Almost like… he knew something I didn’t.
I nodded slowly. “I will.”
He gave a small nod and stepped out.
The door closed behind him.
Silence settled into the room again.
Not the comfortable kind.
The kind that lingers.
Lyssara let out a breath. “Your dad is something else.”
I didn’t answer.
I was still staring at the door.
At the space he had just left behind.
And for some reason… it didn’t feel empty.
It felt like something had just shifted.
Like something had quietly changed the moment he walked out.
I couldn’t explain it.
But I felt it.
And standing there, with that feeling sitting heavy in my chest—
One thought settled in, slow and undeniable:
Whatever my father just left behind in this house…
it wasn’t just protection anymore.
- Writer
