UNCONTROLLABLE TEARS

CHAPTER 19 The Little Freedom I Lost

Suzita's vacation was over.

She had returned to school, and the house was quieter during the day.

Dad was usually at work.

Suzita was at school.

That left Elizabeth and me at home most of the time.

I thought the quiet might make things easier.

I was wrong.

One afternoon, I was sitting in my room with the door slightly open.

I had my weekly allowance spread across the bed.

I counted it carefully.

Then I counted it again.

I smiled faintly.

It wasn't much.

But I was happy.

I had been saving some of it.

And I had been able to buy my personal things without having to worry about anyone, all thanks to Dad.

I was so focused on the money that I didn't hear footsteps approaching.

Suddenly, the door opened.

I looked up.

Elizabeth stood there.

Her eyes immediately went to the money on my bed.

My heart stopped.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then she walked inside.

"What is that?"

I quickly reached for the money.

"Nothing."

She moved toward me.

"Maya."

I held the money tightly.

"It's mine."

Her expression changed.

"Where did you get it?"

I didn't answer.

She reached for it.

I pulled my hand away.

"Ma'am, please."

She grabbed my wrist.

"Who gave you that money?"

I stared at her.

"I don't have to—"

Before I could finish, she pulled the money from my hand.

"Ma'am!"

I tried to take it back.

She held it tightly.

"Who gave you this?"

I swallowed.

I knew I could lie.

But I also knew she would eventually find out.

So I lowered my eyes.

"Dad."

Her face hardened.

"Edward?"

I nodded.

"He gives me a little money every week."

Elizabeth stared at me.

"Every week?"

I didn't answer.

She looked at the money in her hand.

"So this is what you've been hiding from me."

I swallowed.

"He said it was for my personal needs."

Elizabeth laughed bitterly.

"Of course he did."

She turned toward the door.

"Ma'am, please."

She stopped.

I stood up.

"Please give it back."

She looked at me.

"No."

"But Dad gave it to me."

"And now I'm telling you to give it to me."

I felt my eyes filling with tears.

"Why?"

"Because you're not going to start hiding money in this house."

"I'm not hiding it."

"You kept it from me."

"Because I knew you wouldn't let me keep it."

Her expression became colder.

"Watch your mouth."

I immediately lowered my head.

"Sorry, Ma'am."

She walked toward the door.

Then she stopped.

"And don't you dare tell your father that I took this."

I looked at her.

"But—"

"If you tell him, you will regret it."

I swallowed.

She walked out.

I sat back down on my bed.

My hands were shaking.

I stared at the empty space where the money had been.

It had taken me weeks to save that little amount.

And it was gone in seconds.

---

After that day, things changed.

Whenever Dad gave me my weekly allowance, I would hold it carefully and wait until Elizabeth wasn't around.

But somehow, she always found out.

Sometimes she would wait until Dad left for work.

Sometimes she would call me into her room.

Sometimes she would simply hold out her hand.

"Give it to me."

I knew better than to argue.

So I gave it to her.

Every time.

I never told Dad.

I was too afraid.

The little money I had saved before Elizabeth discovered the allowance slowly disappeared.

I used some of it for sanitary pads.

Some for underwear.

Some for small things I needed.

Then there was nothing left.

I stopped asking Dad for money because he gave me a weekly allowance, and I knew he would ask what had happened to the money he had already given me.

I couldn't tell him the truth.

So whenever I needed something, I asked Elizabeth instead.

And every time I asked, she would sigh.

Sometimes she would tell me she didn't have money.

Sometimes she would tell me to wait.

Sometimes she would simply say, "Not now."

But she was the one taking the money Dad gave me.

I never said anything.

I simply stayed quiet.

Weeks passed.

Then one afternoon, I stood in front of my wardrobe and looked at the last pair of slippers I had.

The sole was beginning to separate.

I pressed it down with my fingers.

It came apart again.

I sighed.

I needed a new pair.

But I had no money.

I sat on the edge of my bed.

I didn't want to ask Elizabeth again.

I already knew what she would say.

So I started thinking.

There had to be another way.

I remembered seeing a small bakery a little distance away from our street.

It wasn't close enough for me to simply walk there and be back in a few minutes.

But it wasn't so far that I couldn't reach it.

I had passed it several times when I was sent on errands.

A few days earlier, I had noticed a small handwritten notice near the entrance.

They needed someone to help for a few hours in the afternoon.

I had thought about it then.

But I hadn't stopped.

I was too afraid.

Now I couldn't stop thinking about it.

If I worked there, I could earn a little money.

But there was one problem.

Elizabeth.

She was almost always at home.

If I suddenly started leaving the house every afternoon, she would notice.

And if she found out I was working, she would never allow it.

Dad wouldn't know easily.

He left for work in the morning and returned in the evening.

But Elizabeth was different.

She was always there.

I couldn't just tell her I was going somewhere.

She would ask where.

Why.

For how long.

And with whom.

I sat on my bed, thinking.

Then an idea came to me.

I didn't have to work for the whole afternoon.

I only needed two hours.

Two hours wasn't long enough to make my absence obvious if I chose the right time.

I could finish my morning chores, wait until after lunch, leave for a short while, and return before evening.

But I still needed a reason to leave the house.

I thought about it for several days.

I didn't go to the bakery immediately.

I watched.

I paid attention to when Elizabeth usually stayed in the kitchen.

When she rested.

When she went upstairs.

When she was busy with something else.

I also thought about the safest way to ask about the job without giving anyone my home address or making it obvious where I lived.

Finally, one afternoon, I found an opportunity.

Elizabeth was in the backyard speaking to someone over the phone.

I quietly slipped out through the front door.

I didn't go straight to the bakery.

I walked slowly, looking around to make sure nobody I knew was nearby.

When I reached the bakery, I stood outside for a moment.

My heart was beating quickly.

Then I walked inside.

A woman behind the counter looked up.

"Can I help you?"

I swallowed.

"I saw the notice outside."

She nodded.

"The part-time help?"

"Yes."

"We need someone for two hours in the afternoon."

I nodded quickly.

"I can do that."

She studied me for a moment.

"Have you worked somewhere like this before?"

"No."

"But I can learn."

She smiled slightly.

"What can you do?"

"I can clean, pack things, serve customers, anything you need."

She thought for a moment.

Then she nodded.

"We can try you for a few days."

My heart lifted.

"Really?"

"Yes. Two hours a day. If it works out, you can continue."

"Thank you."

She gave me the time I was expected to come.

I thanked her again and left.

I walked home with a strange feeling in my chest.

I was scared.

But I was also excited.

For the first time, I had found something that could give me a little independence.

And nobody at home knew.

---

The next afternoon, I waited until I was sure Elizabeth was occupied.

I changed quickly and left.

I didn't wear anything that made it obvious I was going to work.

I reached the bakery and spent two hours helping.

I packed bread.

Wiped tables.

Served customers.

Cleaned the counter.

It wasn't easy.

But I didn't mind.

When the two hours were over, the woman handed me my first small payment.

I stared at the money.

It wasn't much.

But it was mine.

I held it tightly.

On my way home, I stopped at a small shop and bought a simple pair of slippers.

I kept the rest of the money in a small envelope inside my room.

I felt guilty for hiding it.

But I also felt relieved.

For the first time in weeks, I felt like I had a tiny piece of control over my own life.

---

The next day, I went back.

Then the day after that.

Soon, it became a routine.

Two hours.

That was all.

I would finish my chores, wait until Elizabeth was busy, and leave.

I always returned before evening.

Nobody noticed.

At least, that's what I thought.

The work itself wasn't terrible.

Some days were busy.

Other days were quiet.

I learned how to arrange the bread properly, pack orders, wipe tables, and attend to customers.

There was another young worker there named Daniel.

He was a little older than me.

He had been working at the bakery longer than I had, so he sometimes showed me how to do things.

"You're putting those in the wrong tray," he told me one afternoon.

I looked down.

"Oh."

I laughed.

"I didn't know."

He shook his head.

"You're going to get me in trouble with the woman."

I laughed again.

"Then you should have shown me properly."

"I did."

"No, you didn't."

He smiled.

"I definitely did."

It was nothing serious.

Just ordinary conversation between two people working together.

I was grateful to have someone who made the two hours feel less difficult.

I never told him much about my home.

He never asked.

And I liked it that way.

Two weeks passed.

I had started getting used to the routine.

I had bought a few small personal things with the money I earned.

Nothing expensive.

Nothing unnecessary.

I saved the rest.

For once, I didn't feel completely helpless.

But I was still careful.

I never stayed longer than two hours.

I never came home late.

And I never told Dad.

I kept telling myself I would eventually tell him.

Maybe when I had enough money saved.

Maybe when I could explain everything properly.

Maybe when I wasn't so afraid.

But that day never came.

---

Elizabeth, however, had started paying attention.

At first, she noticed that Maya kept disappearing in the afternoons.

She said nothing.

She simply watched.

She noticed the time Maya usually left.

The time she returned.

The way she always made sure her chores were finished before leaving.

Then one afternoon, she followed her.

She kept her distance and made sure she didn't see her.

When Maya entered the bakery, she stopped across the street.

Elizabeth watched through the window.

She saw her working.

She saw the woman who ran the place.

She noticed the other workers.

And then she noticed Daniel.

She watched him speak to Maya.

She saw them laugh once when he corrected something she had done.

She watched long enough to understand that he worked there regularly.

Elizabeth didn't see anything inappropriate between them.

There wasn't anything to see.

But she wasn't interested in what was actually happening.

She was interested in what she could make Edward believe.

So she kept watching.

Over the next several days, she paid attention to the bakery and the people who worked there.

She learned the routine.

She noticed when Daniel worked.

She noticed how comfortable Maya had become there.

And slowly, an idea formed in her mind.

She could confront Maya.

She could drag her home.

But that would only give Maya a chance to explain.

Instead, Elizabeth wanted Edward to discover the secret himself.

She wanted him disappointed.

She wanted him to think Maya had deliberately chosen to disobey him.

And if she could make him wonder whether Daniel had something to do with Maya's reason for going there, even better.

So Elizabeth waited.

She said nothing to Maya.

She let Maya believe her secret was safe.

---

A few weeks later, Elizabeth finally decided the time was right.

Maya was still working at the bakery.

Edward still knew nothing.

And Maya had no idea that Elizabeth had been watching her.

That afternoon, while Edward was at work, Elizabeth waited until Maya had left the house.

Then she picked up her phone.

She called Edward.

He answered after a few rings.

"Hello?"

"Edward?"

His voice immediately changed.

"Is something wrong?"

Elizabeth sighed.

"I don't know what to do anymore."

Edward frowned.

"What happened?"

"It's Maya."

There was a pause.

"What about her?"

Elizabeth lowered her voice.

"She's not at home."

Edward became quiet.

"What do you mean she's not at home?"

"I mean she's gone."

"Where?"

"I don't know how to tell you this."

"Elizabeth."

She sighed again.

"I've been trying to talk to her."

"About what?"

"About the way she's been behaving."

Edward's expression tightened.

"What has she done?"

Elizabeth hesitated.

Then she said,

"She's still working."

There was silence on the other end.

"Working?"

"Yes."

Edward's voice became firmer.

"Where?"

Elizabeth pretended to sound uncomfortable.

"I didn't want to tell you because I thought I could handle it myself."

"Elizabeth, where is she?"

"I found out that she's been going to a bakery in the afternoons."

Edward said nothing.

Elizabeth continued.

"I've tried talking sense into her."

"You knew?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

Elizabeth paused.

"Long enough."

Edward's disappointment began to show in his voice.

"What did u tell her?"

She continued before Edward could respond.

"I told her that you had already made your position clear. You didn't want her working outside the house."

Edward closed his eyes.

"And she still went?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth's voice became softer.

"I tried to caution her, Edward."

She made herself sound almost hurt.

"I told her that going against your decision wasn't right."

Edward remained silent.

"I told her she should respect your decision."

"And what did she say?"

Elizabeth lowered her eyes even though he couldn't see her.

"She wouldn't listen."

Edward sighed.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I wanted to give her a chance to stop."

Elizabeth paused.

Then she added carefully,

"And there's something else."

Edward's voice became more serious.

"What?"

Elizabeth hesitated.

"I noticed there is a young man working there."

Edward was silent.

"A young man?"

"Yes."

She sighed.

"I didn't want to jump to conclusions, Edward. I really didn't."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I've watched them."

Edward's voice hardened.

"Watched who?"

"Maya and the boy."

She paused.

"They talk quite often."

Edward didn't answer.

Elizabeth continued.

"They laugh together sometimes."

"Elizabeth."

"I'm not saying Maya has done anything."

She quickly added the words, making herself sound reasonable.

"But I can't ignore what I've seen."

Edward was silent.

"I've asked myself why a girl who has already been told not to work outside would keep going back to the same place every afternoon."

Her voice became quieter.

"And especially when there's a young man there she seems so comfortable with."

Edward's jaw tightened.

"You think she's working there because of him?"

"I don't know."

Elizabeth sighed.

"Maybe I'm wrong."

She paused.

"Maybe it's completely innocent."

Then she added,

"But I would rather tell you what I've noticed than pretend I haven't seen anything."

Edward rubbed his forehead.

He was already disappointed that Maya had gone against his decision.

Now Elizabeth had planted another thought in his mind.

"How old is he?"

"I don't know exactly."

Elizabeth lied smoothly.

"He's young. Around her age, maybe a little older."

Edward said nothing.

Elizabeth continued.

"I tried talking sense into Maya because I didn't want her getting herself into trouble."

She lowered her voice.

"I told her she shouldn't be spending her afternoons somewhere without telling you, especially around a young man you don't know."

Edward sighed.

"Where is she now?"

"She's at the bakery."

"Give me the address."

"Edward—"

"Give me the address."

Elizabeth finally gave it to him.

He repeated it to make sure he had heard correctly.

"Yes."

"I'll handle this."

"Please don't be too hard on her."

Elizabeth quickly added the words.

"I don't want her to feel like we're against her."

Edward's jaw tightened.

The call ended.

Elizabeth slowly lowered the phone.

A small smile appeared on her face.

She had done exactly what she wanted.

She hadn't needed to shout at Maya.

She hadn't needed to punish her.

She hadn't even needed to confront her.

She had simply given Edward enough information to make him suspicious.

Now he would see Maya's secret himself.

And whatever conclusion he reached would be his own.

At least, that was what Elizabeth wanted him to believe.

What's Edward going to do when he sees Maya?

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