CHAPTER 6
755 Words
Leah
I did not hear Daniel approach.
I was standing in the hallway outside my room, hair still damp from the shower, dress sticking in places where I had not dried off properly.
I had not gone back to bed.
I had not gone downstairs.
I did not know what to do with myself yet.
Every part of me felt exposed, like the house itself could see through my skin.
“Jesus, Leah,” Daniel said behind me.
I turned slowly.
He stood a few feet away, already dressed, already put together. Calm. Controlled. Irritated, like I had inconvenienced him by being in the hallway.
I had spent my whole life trying not to annoy Daniel.
Somehow, I always did.
“You really don’t waste time, do you?” he said.
My stomach dropped.
“Daniel, I...”
He held up a hand.
“Don’t.”
The word landed hard.
Final.
“I don’t want to hear it,” Daniel said. “Lizzie’s a mess. Mom is barely holding it together. And Jacob...”
He shook his head slowly.
“You’ve done enough damage for one morning.”
I felt myself shrink under his gaze.
It was familiar, that instinct to make myself smaller before anyone could decide I was taking up too much room.
“I didn’t plan anything,” I said.
“That’s always your excuse,” Daniel snapped. “You never plan anything. You just drift into the middle of everyone else’s life and act surprised when there’s damage.”
It sounded like something he had already decided before I opened my mouth.
I had learned early that being quiet did not protect you.
It only made you easier to blame.
“That’s not fair,” I whispered.
Daniel laughed softly.
Not amused.
Dismissive.
“When has fair ever been the point?” he asked.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice.
“You knew he was drunk. You knew he was vulnerable. And you still went there.”
His eyes hardened.
“That says everything.”
My chest ached.
“You don’t know what happened.”
“I know enough,” Daniel said. “And honestly? I’m not surprised.”
The words stung more than I expected.
Or maybe they didn’t.
Maybe I had been waiting for them my whole life. Maybe I had always known this was where they would land when things got bad enough.
“You’ve always wanted to be part of things that weren’t yours,” Daniel said. “Lizzie’s life. Her world.”
He looked me over once, cold and quick.
“Jacob.”
Something inside me finally gave.
“I’m your sister,” I said.
My voice shook, but I said it.
Daniel studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable.
The silence stretched long enough to answer.
Then he shrugged.
“Then act like it.”
He turned to leave, then stopped.
“They want you downstairs,” he said without looking back. “Now.”
I did not ask who they were.
He was already walking away.
I stood in the hallway after he turned the corner and gave myself five seconds.
That was the deal I had made with myself somewhere between the shower and the mirror.
Five seconds to feel it.
Then move.
I counted.
Then I followed him down.
Daniel did not slow for me. He did not look back. He walked like the whole thing was already settled. Like I was only being brought in so they could tell me what I had done.
I focused on the stairs.
One foot.
Then the next.
Do not fall.
Do not cry.
Do not give them another thing to use.
The living room was full.
Lizzie stood near the fireplace, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her face blotchy and furious. My mother stood beside her, close and solid, a wall in pearls.
Jacob stood a few steps away from all of them, posture rigid, expression closed.
My father was nearest the door.
When I came in, he looked at me, and for one fraction of a second, I saw it again. The same thing I had seen across the party last night. That complicated, swallowed thing behind his eyes.
The thing that looked almost like apology.
His jaw worked once.
Then my mother’s gaze moved to him.
Whatever had been there disappeared.
He straightened. His face hardened. He became the man the room expected him to be.
No one offered me a seat.
“Explain yourself,” my father said.
- Writer
