UNCONTROLLABLE TEARS

CHAPTER 15 The First Move

The next morning, I woke up thinking about Dad.

For the first time in a long time, I had gone to sleep feeling like maybe things could become better.

Dad had spoken to Elizabeth.

He had told her not to laugh at me.

He had told her that I was his daughter too.

Maybe things would change.

Maybe I wouldn't feel like a stranger in my own home anymore.

I got dressed and went downstairs.

Dad had already left for work.

I walked into the kitchen.

Elizabeth was there, preparing breakfast.

When she noticed me, she smiled.

"Good morning, Maya."

I stopped.

"Good morning."

"Did you sleep well?"

I nodded.

"Yes."

"Good."

Her voice sounded unusually gentle.

For a moment, I felt relieved.

Maybe Dad's conversation with her had worked.

Maybe she really wanted things to be different.

Then she looked at the dining table.

"Maya, wipe that table for me."

I looked at it.

It was already clean.

But I nodded.

"Okay."

I took a cloth and wiped it carefully.

"Make sure you clean the edges too."

I did exactly what she said.

When I finished, she looked at it.

"Good."

Then she pointed toward the kitchen floor.

"Now mop this."

I stared at the floor.

I had cleaned it the night before.

But I didn't argue.

I took the mop.

While I was cleaning, I noticed Suzita sitting at the kitchen counter.

She was watching me.

She didn't say anything.

She just smiled.

I ignored her.

When I finished, Elizabeth looked around.

"Suzita's room."

I looked at her.

"I cleaned it yesterday."

Her smile disappeared.

"Did I ask whether you cleaned it yesterday?"

I lowered my eyes.

"No."

"Then go and clean it again."

"Okay."

I turned to leave.

"Maya."

I stopped.

She looked at me.

"Don't forget the bathroom."

I nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."

I walked away.

Behind me, I heard Suzita laugh quietly.

I didn't understand why.

I only knew that something about the morning felt wrong.

---

By the time I finished cleaning her room, my arms were tired.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a moment.

Then I heard Elizabeth calling.

"Maya!"

I quickly stood.

"I'm coming."

I walked downstairs.

Elizabeth was standing in the sitting room.

Suzita was beside her.

I looked between them.

"Yes, ma'am?"

Elizabeth stared at me for a few seconds.

Then she said calmly,

"Come here."

I walked closer.

"Why?"

Her expression changed.

"Why?"

I nodded.

She took a step toward me.

"Do you remember what your father said to me yesterday?"

My stomach tightened.

I didn't answer.

She stepped closer.

"He told me you felt uncomfortable around me."

I swallowed.

"I didn't mean—"

"Be quiet."

I immediately stopped talking.

Suzita smiled.

Elizabeth continued.

"You went to your father and complained about me."

I shook my head quickly.

"No, ma'am. I didn't—"

"You did."

Her voice became colder.

"I know exactly what you said."

I looked down.

"I wasn't trying to cause trouble."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed.

"Then you should have kept your mouth shut."

My heart began beating faster.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry."

Elizabeth stared at me.

Then something changed in her expression.

Her anger became sharper.

She stepped closer until I could feel how tense she was.

"Do you know what makes you so difficult?"

I shook my head.

"You always make people feel sorry for you."

I looked at her, confused.

"I don't."

She suddenly spat on the floor beside me.

"Your mother is dead because of you, and somehow that still isn't enough."

My entire body went still.

Elizabeth's voice became vicious.

"Now you want to cause trouble between me and my husband too?"

My heart dropped.

I couldn't breathe properly.

Those words hurt more than I expected.

Because somewhere inside me, there was still a little girl who had spent years believing them.

After Mom died, Dad had changed.

There had been a time when he could barely look at me.

Sometimes, when he saw me, his face would tighten with pain.

Sometimes he would walk away.

And once, in the middle of his grief, he had said words I had never forgotten.

If you had learned to swim...

He never finished the sentence.

He didn't have to.

I had understood.

He blamed me.

I had blamed myself too.

I had been the one who asked Mom to come to the pool.

I had been the one who couldn't save her.

For years, I carried that guilt quietly.

But things had changed.

Dad had eventually realized how much his grief had hurt me.

He had apologized.

He had told me he was sorry for making me feel responsible for something I was too young to understand.

He had started talking to me again.

He had started noticing me.

He had given me money every week so I wouldn't have to beg for the little things I needed.

For the first time in years, I had begun believing that maybe Dad didn't see me as the little girl who had failed to save her mother anymore.

But Elizabeth had just opened that old wound.

And she knew exactly where to press.

"I didn't kill Mom," I whispered.

Elizabeth stared at me.

"What did you say?"

"I didn't kill her."

My voice shook.

"I never wanted her to die."

Elizabeth gave a cold laugh.

"But she did."

Tears filled my eyes.

"Please don't say that."

"Why not?"

She stepped closer.

"Doesn't your father think about it too?"

I froze.

"He may have forgiven you," she continued, "but that doesn't mean he has forgotten."

I looked down.

My hands were trembling.

"I didn't mean to..."

"Didn't mean to what?"

I couldn't answer.

Elizabeth turned toward Suzita.

"Go and bring me the whip."

Suzita's face immediately brightened.

"Okay, Mom."

She ran toward the storage room.

I looked at Elizabeth.

"Ma'am..."

She ignored me.

"Please."

"Please what?"

"I'm sorry."

"You should have thought about that before you spoke to your father."

Suzita returned holding the Whip

She handed it to Elizabeth with a smile.

I took a step backward.

"Please don't."

Elizabeth looked at me.

"You are going to learn something today."

"I won't say anything again."

"You should have thought about that before."

The first strike landed across my arm.

I cried out and immediately covered myself.

"Please!"

Another strike came.

Then another.

I tried to protect myself with my arms, but Elizabeth kept hitting me.

My cries filled the room.

"Please stop!"

Suzita watched from nearby.

She was smiling.

"Hit her again, Mom."

I looked at her through my tears.

I couldn't believe she was cheering.

Elizabeth's face remained cold.

"You hear that?"

I shook my head.

"Please stop."

"You want to run to your father whenever you don't like something?"

The whip struck again.

I cried out.

"No!"

"You want to make him think I'm mistreating you?"

Another strike.

"I said no!"

I stumbled backward.

Elizabeth grabbed my arm before I could get away.

"Stand still."

I was shaking so badly that I could barely remain upright.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't enough."

She struck me again.

I cried until my voice became weak.

My arms burned.

My back hurt.

I curled in on myself, trying to protect my body.

Suzita laughed.

"She's crying again."

Elizabeth finally lowered the whip.

I stood there trembling, tears running down my face.

My breathing was uneven.

Elizabeth looked at me.

"If you tell Edward about this, things will be much worse."

I stared at her.

She stepped closer.

"Do you understand me?"

I nodded quickly.

"Yes."

"I didn't hear you."

"Yes, ma'am."

Her voice became quieter.

"You will never tell your father that I touched you."

I nodded.

"I won't."

I looked at Suzita.

She was still smiling.

"I won't."

Elizabeth leaned closer.

"And don't think your father will always choose you."

My eyes filled with fresh tears.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

"You remember what happened after your mother died, don't you?"

I couldn't speak.

"You remember how he looked at you."

I lowered my head.

"You remember how he couldn't even stand being around you."

I closed my eyes.

"Stop."

Elizabeth smiled.

"Why? Because it hurts?"

I started crying again.

"You don't want to lose him again, do you?"

I shook my head.

"Then keep your mouth shut."

"I will."

"Good."

She pointed toward the staircase.

"Go upstairs."

I didn't move.

She raised her voice.

"Now."

I ran.

I reached my room, closed the door, and locked it.

Then I slid down against it.

I pressed both hands over my mouth to stop myself from crying loudly.

My whole body was shaking.

I had never been that scared of Elizabeth before.

Not like this.

I was afraid Dad wouldn't believe me.

I was afraid she would find out that I had told him.

But more than anything, I was afraid that she was right.

What if Dad became tired of me again?

What if he looked at me the way he had after Mom died?

What if he remembered the pool?

I looked down at my arms.

The marks were already beginning to show.

I quickly pulled my sleeves down.

I didn't want anyone to see them.

Especially Dad.

I didn't want him to know.

I didn't want him to look at me with that old pain again.

---

That afternoon, Dad called home.

I heard his voice downstairs.

He was asking how everyone was doing.

I sat quietly on my bed.

I wanted to run downstairs.

I wanted to tell him everything.

I wanted to say that Elizabeth had hurt me.

That Suzita had watched.

That I was scared.

But then I remembered Elizabeth's voice.

If you tell Edward about this, things will be much worse.

My hands began trembling.

I stayed where I was.

A few minutes later, my phone rang.

It was Dad.

I answered.

"Hello, Dad."

"How are you?"

I swallowed.

"I'm fine."

There was a short pause.

"You sound quiet."

"I'm just tired."

"Did you eat?"

"Yes."

"Good."

He sounded normal.

Safe.

For a moment, I almost told him.

"Dad..."

"Yes?"

I opened my mouth.

But no words came out.

"It's nothing."

"Alright. I'll see you later."

"Okay."

The call ended.

I stared at the phone.

A tear rolled down my cheek.

I had wanted to tell him.

But I was too afraid.

And downstairs, Elizabeth was smiling.

She knew I would stay silent.