*Chapter 6: Say Yes or Be Nothing*
645 Words
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The next morning, Amara Bellewood didn’t rise.
The girl who used to burst through doors at sunrise, who chased horses and stole biscuits and laughed loud enough to scare birds... didn’t get out of bed.
She lay curled on her side like a wounded animal, staring at the wall. The locket Eleanor gave her lay cold against her chest. “Be as free as the wind,” her mother had whispered. But the wind had died.
Hilda hadn’t left her side all morning. She sat on the edge of the bed, one rough, gentle hand smoothing Amara’s wild curls over and over. Stroking her hair like she’d done when Amara was five and had nightmares.
“Shh, child,” Hilda murmured. “Breathe. Just breathe with me.”
Amara didn’t answer. She was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that scared Hilda more than screaming.
Then footsteps. Heavy. Certain.
Richard walked in like he owned the room. Like he owned her. The boss of Bellewood Manor. The father who thought fear was love.
He didn’t sit. He didn’t soften.
“You’ve got a few days,” he said. No greeting. No “are you alright.” Just verdict. “Colonel Devereaux will be back next week. You have until then to say yes.”
Amara didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
Then her voice came out. Flat. Hollow. “What if I don’t say yes, Father?”
Richard’s jaw tightened. “Don’t.”
“What if I don’t?” She turned her head on the pillow, eyes huge and dead. “Are you gonna kill me?”
The words cracked the air.
Richard stepped closer. “If you don’t say yes... I will disown you.”
Silence.
Amara’s mouth opened. But no words came. Shock froze her solid. Her own father. Disown her. Erase her name from the family Bible. Make her a stranger in the house she was born in.
Hilda shot to her feet. “Richard! How could you? How would you do something like that to her? She’s your daughter!”
He didn’t look at Hilda. Only at Amara. “If she doesn’t agree—if she does NOT say yes to Colonel’s proposal—I will make sure I disown her. There is nothing anyone’s gonna do about it. I am her father. I make the decisions. I call the shots. And she has to do as I say.”
Amara made a sound. Not a sob. Not a scream. Something broken.
“I want to die,” she whispered.
Richard flinched. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“I want to die,” she said louder. Tears finally fell, cutting tracks down her pale face. “Because dying will be better than living like this. Dying will be better than marrying him. Dying will be better than being caged.”
Richard’s face went hard. “You won’t die. You have to marry the Colonel. That’s what everyone wants. When you’re married to him, you can die peacefully. After you’ve done your duty.”
“I don’t want to die peacefully!” Amara screamed, voice raw. “I don’t wanna die! I want to LIVE! But living as his wife is worse than dying!”
“Hush, child, don’t say that,” Hilda begged, pulling her into her arms. “Don’t you dare say that.”
Richard looked at his daughter sobbing in Hilda’s lap, at the girl who’d inherited her mother’s eyes and his stubbornness. And he turned. Walked out.
The door closed behind him with a soft, final click.
Amara kept screaming. “I want to die! I want to die!”
Hilda just held her tighter, rocking her, crying into her hair. “No, baby. No. You were born to be as free as the wind. You hear me? The wind doesn’t die. It just changes direction.”
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- Writer
