The Distance Between Us

Chapter 5: A Promise Shattered

Thorian adjusted his satchel as he stood in front of Zephyra's rented house. His heart raced, hopeful yet anxious to see her after months of being apart. His part-time job had kept him busy, but he finally found time to check on her.

The house, however, looked different. New curtains hung in the windows, and the once-familiar porch had been repainted. His brows furrowed as he knocked on the door. A woman in her mid-40s answered, smiling politely.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Zephyra," Thorian said eagerly. "She used to live here."

The woman tilted her head. "Oh, the previous tenants? They moved out weeks ago. We just moved in."

Thorian's heart sank. "Do you know where they went?"

"I'm sorry, I don't," she said gently.

Muttering a polite thank-you, Thorian stepped back, disbelief washing over him. She was gone. He had promised to always be there for her, yet she had left without a word.

Why didn't she tell me?

The thought gnawed at him as he wandered aimlessly through the streets. He searched the places they used to frequent, asking around for any clues, but no one knew where she had gone. For two weeks, Thorian's efforts yielded nothing but frustration and heartache.

Then one afternoon, he spotted a familiar figure at the corner of the park—Casey, Zephyra's little sister.

"Casey!" Thorian called, rushing toward her.

She turned, surprised. "Thorian?"

"Where's Zephyra? Where did you guys move to?" he asked urgently.

Casey’s face fell. "We don’t have a house anymore. I live with Mamay now—Mom's sister."

Thorian's chest tightened. "And Zephyra?"

"She's in New Zealand," Casey said matter-of-factly. "Mom said she had to go there to continue her studies."

Thorian felt the world tilt beneath his feet. He couldn't breathe, couldn't process what he'd just heard. New Zealand? That was thousands of miles away.

"But... why?" he managed to ask, his voice trembling.

Casey shrugged. "I don't know. Mom just said it was for the best."

Thorian stood there, numb. The weight of guilt crushed him. He had been so caught up in his work that he hadn't noticed Zephyra slipping away, facing who knew what kind of struggles alone.

What if I had checked on her more often? What if she needed me but couldn't find me? What if she wanted someone to talk to, and I wasn’t there?

Questions swirled in his mind, each one more agonizing than the last.

All he could do now was pray that she was okay and happy in New Zealand.

---

But reality was far from kind to Zephyra.

When she first arrived at her aunt's house, she felt welcomed. Her five cousins greeted her warmly, and the big house seemed like a promising new start.

However, the warmth faded quickly. By the second day, her cousins treated her more like a servant than family.

Her aunt's expectations were overwhelming. "Cook the rice," her aunt ordered one morning.

"I don't know how," Zephyra admitted nervously.

Her aunt's face twisted in fury. "What kind of girl doesn't know how to cook rice? You'll learn today, or you'll go hungry."

True to her word, her aunt didn't let Zephyra eat that night. Her cousins simply watched, indifferent to her plight.

Zephyra accepted her fate in silence. She had never done household chores before—she had always had a nanny back home. But here, she was the nanny. She learned to cook, clean, and take care of the household under her aunt's harsh supervision.

Her routine was relentless: wake up at 4:30 a.m., cook, clean, and carry out endless tasks until 9 p.m. when she was finally allowed to rest.

When it came time to enroll in school, Zephyra's dream of becoming a lawyer was crushed.

"No," her aunt said firmly. "You're going to be a teacher. The fees are cheaper."

Zephyra swallowed her disappointment and nodded obediently.

Her oldest cousin attended the same school, and they went shopping together for supplies. While her cousin picked out high-quality fabrics for uniforms, her aunt chose the cheapest for Zephyra.

"Carry everything," her aunt instructed coldly.

Zephyra did as she was told, silently bearing the weight of the bags and her humiliation.

School was supposed to be a respite, but it wasn't. Her cousins dumped their homework and projects on her, demanding she complete them.

"But I don't know the formulas," Zephyra protested once.

"Figure it out," her cousin snapped.

When the homework came back with failing marks, they blamed her.

Her cousins also raided her bag, taking any money they found. If Zephyra protested, they would sneer, "It's not your money. It's ours."

Each night, Zephyra cried herself to sleep, thinking of her mother and Thorian.

Does Thorian still think about me? Has he forgotten me?

The questions haunted her, but she refused to let despair consume her.

One evening, as she stared at the dim ceiling, she made a silent vow:

I will survive this. I will endure. And one day, I'll find my way back to Thorian.