CHAPTER 2
877 Words
Two men in black suits moved immediately, reaching for Clara. She tried to resist, tried to speak, tried to explain, but her body felt numb.
“Please…” she whispered, tears streaming freely, “Adrian, this isn’t fair…”
But he didn’t look at her. He didn’t say a word.
The guards’ grip tightened, pulling her backward. Clara’s blue dress snagged on the edge of a chair. She stumbled, falling onto the polished floor. Pain shot through her hands, but it was nothing compared to the gaping wound in her chest.
Outside, the cool evening air hit her face as the guards roughly shoved her toward the curb. She collapsed onto the steps, curling up and sobbing uncontrollably.
Clara didn’t remember how she got back to the house.
The drive was a blur—streetlights, passing cars, voices in the distance—but none of it stayed long enough in her mind to make sense. One moment she was standing outside the engagement hall, barely able to breathe, and the next she was in front of the tall black gates she had walked through almost every day for the past twenty-two years.
Home.
The word didn’t feel right anymore.
She stood there for a long time, staring at the house. The lights were on, glowing warmly from inside, just like always. From the outside, nothing had changed.
But everything had.
Her chest tightened as she noticed the pile near the entrance.
Her things.
Two large suitcases. A few boxes. A plastic bag filled with what looked like shoes and clothes.
Just… dumped there.
Like she was nothing.
Clara swallowed hard, her throat dry. For a second, she thought maybe she was imagining it. Maybe this was still part of the nightmare. Maybe she would wake up and Adrian would be calling her, apologizing, explaining everything.
But the silence around her was too real.
Slowly, she walked forward.
Each step felt heavy, like her body didn’t belong to her anymore.
She crouched in front of the bags and touched one of them lightly, as if it might disappear.
It didn’t.
Her fingers tightened around the handle.
“So it’s true…” she whispered.
The front door opened suddenly.
Clara froze.
Aunty Catty stepped out, heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. She hadn’t even changed from the engagement party. Her makeup was still perfect, her hair untouched—but her face was filled with something Clara had never seen directed at her this strongly before.
Pure anger.
Before Clara could even say a word—
SLAP!
The sound echoed in the quiet compound.
Clara’s head snapped to the side as pain exploded across her cheek. She stumbled slightly, barely catching herself.
Her hand slowly came up to her face.
“Aunty…” she whispered, shocked.
“How dare you?” Aunty Catty’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air. “How dare you embarrass me like that in front of everyone!”
Clara blinked, tears already forming again. “I didn’t understand"
SLAP!
The second slap came faster, harder.
Clara gasped, her vision blurring.
“Stop lying!” Aunty Catty snapped. “You think I’m stupid? You went there to cause a scene!”
“I didn’t!” Clara cried, shaking her head. “I swear, I didn’t know he was the one—”
“You expect me to believe that?” her aunt cut in. “After everything I’ve done for you?”
Clara’s chest tightened painfully. “Everything you’ve done…?” she repeated softly, disbelief in her voice.
“Yes!” Aunty Catty stepped closer. “I took you in after your father died. I fed you. I gave you a roof over your head. And this is how you repay me? By trying to ruin my daughter’s happiness?”
Clara shook her head again, tears falling freely now. “I wasn’t trying to ruin anything… I was with him, Aunty. For four years…”
Her voice broke on the last words.
For a moment, something flickered in Aunty Catty’s eyes but it disappeared just as quickly.
“That’s your problem,” she said coldly. “Not mine.”
Clara stared at her.
Not mine.
Those two words hit harder than anything else.
“This is my home too,” Clara said weakly. “Dad"
“Don’t mention your father!” Aunty Catty snapped, her voice rising. “If he was here, he would be ashamed of you!”
Clara flinched like she had been struck again.
“That’s not true,” she whispered.
Aunty Catty let out a short, mocking laugh. “You really think you still have a place here?”
Clara didn’t answer.
Because suddenly… she wasn’t sure.
Her aunt turned toward the guards standing nearby. “Why are you just standing there?” she said sharply. “Take her.”
Clara frowned, confused. “Take me where?”
No one answered her.
The guards stepped forward.
Her heart skipped. “Wait—what are you doing?”
They grabbed her arms.
Fear hit instantly.
“Aunty, please!” Clara struggled now, panic rising fast. “What is this? Why are they holding me?!”
“Because you clearly don’t understand your place anymore,” Aunty Catty replied calmly.
Clara’s stomach dropped.
- Writer
