Between Love and Revenge

Chapter 1:The Last Promise

POV: Elena Carter

People often say that home is a place.

I disagree.

Home is a person. For me…. Home is my sister Vivian Carter.

The woman who raised me after life stole everything from us. Sometimes, I wondered if she was secretly made of magic because no matter how difficult things become she always found a way to smile.

Even when our landlord threatened to throw us out.

Even when the electricity was disconnected for two days.

Even when I caught her pretending she had already eaten so I wouldn't feel guilty about finishing the last bowl of rice.

She always smiled.

I hated that smile.

Not because it wasn't beautiful… but because I knew it hid more pain than she would ever admit.

A loud knock on my bedroom door interrupted my thoughts.

“Lena!” Vivian called from the other side, “if you don't get out of bed in the next 30 seconds, I'll eat your pancakes”.

“My pancakes?”

“They’re looking very delicious.”

“You made pancakes?”

“I might have.”

I glanced at the old alarm clock beside my bed.

7:12 a.m.

I jumped off the bed so quickly that my blanket wrapped itself around my legs.

“Oh, come on!”

I stumbled, nearly kissed the floor, then burst into laughter at my own clumsiness.

From outside the room, Vivian laughed too.

“I heard that.”

“You heard nothing.”

“I definitely heard something fall.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“So the floor attacked itself?”

She laughed again, which gave my heart warmth.

If happiness had a sound, it would probably sound like Vivian laughing from the kitchen.

I quickly brushed my teeth, tied my curly hair into a loose ponytail, and hurried out.

The smell hit me immediately.

Butter.

Maple syrup.

Fresh pancakes.

I froze dramatically in the doorway.

“Who are you…?” I gasped. “And what have you done with my sister?”

Vivian looked over her shoulder, a wooden spatula in one hand.

She raised an eyebrow.

“I beg your pardon?”

“My sister only makes pancakes on special occasions.”

“Tell me, why are we having a rich people’s breakfast?”

Vivian laughed so hard she had to lean against the kitchen counter.

“Oh my goodness…”

“What?”

“You should see your face.”

I walked closer and lifted the lid off another plate.

“We have eggs too?”

“Yes.”

“And sausages?”

“Yes.”

I slowly turned to look at her.

“Vivian Carter…”

“Yes?”

“Are we secretly millionaires?”

She flicked my forehead.

“Ouch!”

“Sit down before your pancakes get cold.”

I rubbed my forehead dramatically.

“I’ve been assaulted before breakfast.”

“You’ll survive.”

“I need compensation.”

“You already have pancakes.”

“I want bacon too.”

She laughed.

“In your dreams.”

I smiled to myself as I sat down.

Moments like these were my favorite.

No matter how difficult life became, Vivian always found a way to make our tiny apartment feel warm.

The walls were old.

The paint had faded years ago.

Our dining table had one short leg supported by a stack of folded newspapers.

Yet somehow…

Breakfast with Vivian always felt like dining in a five-star restaurant.

Maybe love really does change everything.

“You’ve been smiling at your food for two minutes,” Vivian said.

“I have?”

“Hmm?”

“What can I say?”

I shrugged dramatically.

“I’m in love.”

She blinked.

“…with pancakes?”

“You’ve never broken my heart?”

She pointed her fork at me.

“You’re impossible.”

“And adorable.”

“Extremely adorable.”

Vivian shook her head, trying and failing not to smile.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

The silence wasn’t awkward.

It never was.

It was the comfortable kind of silence shared by people who didn’t need words to understand each other.

I watched her carefully while pretending to eat.

The dark circles beneath her eyes hadn’t disappeared.

If anything, they looked worse.

She looked up and caught me staring at her.

“What?”

“You’ve been working too much.”

“I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m stronger than I look.”

“There you go again.”

“What?”

“That sentence.”

She smiled without meeting my eyes.

“It’s true.”

“It shouldn’t have to be.”

She finally looked at me. There was so much love in her eyes.

“Lena,” she said softly, “I don’t work because I have to.”

I frowned.“I know.”

“I can start working full-time.”

“You already tutor high school students after school.”

“But it’s not enough?”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

I leaned back in my chair.

“I’ve been saving.”

Her eyebrows lifted.

“Saving?”

“For what?”

I smiled mischievously.

“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“So don’t ask questions.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Liar.”

“I don’t.”

“You cried over the surprise birthday cake I baked two years ago.”

“I had onions in my eyes.”

“There weren’t any onions.”

“There were emotional onions.”

I burst into laughter.

Vivian followed a second later.

“Did you hear yourself at all?”

For just one moment....

The world outside disappeared, no electricity bill, no worries.

Just two sisters laughing over breakfast in a tiny apartment that somehow still felt like home.

After breakfast, I insisted on washing the dishes. Vivian protested, of course.

“You cooked?”

“So?”

“So, I should clean?”

She folded her arms and gave me that look.

“The one that says, ‘Don’t argue with me.’”

I gave her one of my own.

“The one that said, ‘Too late.’”

“I’m serious, Vivi.”

“So am I.”

“I’ll wash.”

“I’ll help.”

“No.”

“Vivian?”

“Elena?”

We stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.

“You know,” I said, shaking my head, “if the neighbours heard us, they’d think we were fighting.”

“We are.”

“Over dirty plates?”

“They are very important plates.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You are unbelievable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

She finally surrendered raising both hands in defeat.

“Fine you win.”

“I always do.”

“Don't get used to it.”

I smiled as she walked into the living room with her cup of coffee.

The smile faded moments after she left the kitchen, as I realized I should be working full-time now.

I had graduated six months ago with a degree I was proud of, yet every interview ended in the same way.

“We'll call you.”

They never did.

So I started tutoring high school students in mathematics, english and sometimes literature.

It wasn't glamorous, but it paid enough to buy groceries and quietly saved for something special.

I reached into the pocket of my hoodie and smiled.

Inside was a folded receipt.

My savings had finally reached the amount I needed.

Next weekend….

I will take Vivian to a spa.

She hasn't done anything for herself in years.

I need to start taking care of her as well.

Someone has to, she deserves it.

“You're taking a long time in the kitchen.”

“I'm done.”

I dried my hands and walked into the living room.

Vivian was sitting on our old sofa, flipping through the pages of a magazine she'd borrowed from one of her coworkers.

“You've been staring at the magazine for five minutes,” I said.

“You noticed?”

“You haven't turned a page.”

“I was thinking.”

“About?”

She hesitated.

“Nothing important.”

That definitely is something important I said and sat beside her.

“Talk to me.”

She leaned her head against the back of the sofa.

“Do you ever wonder what life would have been like if mum and Dad were still here?”

The question caught me off guard.

I looked at the framed photograph sitting on the small shelf opposite us.

Our parents were smiling, happy, frozen in time.

“Every day.” I admitted.

Silence settled between us. Not the comfortable silence from breakfast.

This one carried memories.

I broke the silence.

“We can't change what happened.”

“Yeah we can't.”

The rest of the day slipped by faster than I expected.

By three o'clock, I was already at Harrison's residence, tutoring two energetic twins as usual every weekend.

These twins somehow believed solving algebra was a punishment invented by adults.

“No Ethan.” I said, trying not to laugh. “You can't just write,

“I don't know as the answer.”

“But it's the truth.”

“The truth won't get you an A.”

He sighed dramatically.

“I think maths hates me.”

“No,” his sister interrupted, “maths loves you. You're the one avoiding the relationship.”

I burst into laughter.

“You two are impossible.”

Forty-five minutes later, both worksheets were completed.

Mrs Harrison handed me an envelope before walking me to the door.

“Thank you Elena.”

“They're improving.”

“They are. And that's because you're patient with them.”

I smiled politely.

“See you next weekend.”

As soon as I stepped outside, I looked inside the envelope.

Three crisp one-hundred dollar bills.

My heart skipped.

Combined with my savings….

I finally had enough.

After dinner, Vivian disappeared into her bedroom, claiming she had “important things to organize.”

Knowing her, she was probably sorting bills into neat little piles and pretending everything was under control.

I quietly entered my room and opened the metal cash box beneath my bed.

I carefully counted the money.

Once…

Twice…

Three times…

Enough.

“Elena!” Vivian called from the bathroom.

“What?”

“I forgot to ask.”

“What is it?”

“What do you want for dinner tomorrow?”

“Anything.”

There was a brief silence before she spoke again.

“I'll make your favourite.”

“You don't even know what I'm craving.”

“I don't have to.”

“You think you know me that well?”

“I raised you.”

I laughed softly.

“Fair enough.”

I turned off the bedroom lights and climbed into the bed.

For the first time in a while…..

I fell asleep smiling.