The Liar

2.

Layla voice broke the stillness of the night as she stood in the dim light of the living room, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Where have you been, Eva?” she asked, her tone trembling between anger and worry. The words escaped before she could soften them.

Eva turned slowly, her face half-shadowed, half-lit by the flickering lamp. Her expression was unreadable,cool, detached but there was a hint of irritation in her eyes.

“Why are you asking me that?” she said sharply. “Don’t you dare pretend to be dad.”

Layla's shoulders tensed. She took a breath, trying to steady her voice. “It’s not about being your dad, Eva. I’m just asking where you were.” She pointed toward the clock on the wall, its ticking echoing through the quiet house. “Look at the time,it’s almost four in the morning. Where were you?”

A minute of silence passed between them, heavy and sharp. The ticking of the clock was the only sound filling the room.

Layla’s voice trembled as she spoke again, softer this time but edged with fear.

“Where were you, Eva? You had me worried sick. And why did you turn off all the lights in the living room? You know I can’t stand the dark.” Her gaze dropped for a moment before she added, almost in a whisper, “Dad told us not to go out after eleven… so why did you?”

Eva’s expression hardened. She turned toward her sister, her voice slicing through the air like a blade.

“What’s your problem, Layla? I told you already—don’t pretend to be Dad.” Her eyes flashed, the words sharp and deliberate. “You don’t get to question where I go or what I do. It’s not like we have a brother to watch over us. I’m an adult. I work, I handle things, and I’ll go wherever I want, whenever I want.” She drew in a breath, her voice rising. “It’s none of your—”

“Stop it, Eva,” Layla snapped, her voice cutting through the room before Eva could finish.

“This isn’t about control,” she continued, her tone trembling between anger and hurt. “Why are you so desperate to work? Isn’t what Dad provides enough for us? We’re not—” She stopped herself, the unfinished word hanging heavy in the air.

“Even if you have work, you can do it in the daylight,” she said, frustration softening into worry. “Why go out in the middle of the night? What could possibly be so important that it can’t wait until morning?”

Eva’s eyes hardened as she looked at her.

“Go to bed, Layla,” she said evenly, though her tone carried a warning. “You don’t need to know where I’ve been. It’s none of your business.”

After a long pause, Eva finally spoke, her voice sharp but controlled.

“Why are you even asking me that, Layla? What about you? Why are you awake at this hour? What’s so important that you’re wandering around the house in the middle of the night?” Her eyes narrowed, her words deliberate. “You’re questioning me but have you ever asked yourself the same thing?”

Layla blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?” she asked quietly. “I just… woke up. I don’t know how. Everything was dark, and you know how much I hate the darkness. I got up to turn on the lights, and when I didn’t see you in your room, I panicked. You weren’t anywhere in the house, Eva. I was terrified. I was about to call Dad—”

Eva cut her off sharply, her voice rising. “Oh, so you have your reasons? Fine.Then I have mine. And I’m not obligated to explain them to you. Just go back to sleep, Layla.”

Layla stared at her in disbelief. “Are you serious right now? I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m not saying you’re doing something wrong or forbidden, I’m just asking where you were. That’s it!”

Before Layla could say another word, Eva stepped forward, her anger snapping like a storm. She grabbed Layla by the collar of her dress and shook her hard enough to make her stumble back against the wall.

Eva’s eyes burned with something dark,pain, rage, maybe even regret but her words came out bitter and cruel.

“What will you do, huh? You’re asking me questions now? You should be grateful you can even stand on those legs again. You should worry about yourself, your future, not me. Don’t pretend you’re perfect, Layla. You’re pathetic.”

The words hit harder than the shove.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Layla stood frozen, tears burning at the edges of her eyes, her heart pounding.

Eva turned away, breathing hard, and without another word, stormed into her room. The door slammed behind her with a force that echoed through the quiet house, leaving Layla standing there, shaken, silent, and utterly alone.

The next morning, the house was wrapped in a heavy stillness. The faint clatter of dishes echoed softly from the kitchen, where Eva moved quietly, her face unreadable as she prepared breakfast.

Layla appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, walking slowly, her steps uneven. The faint stumble in her gait betrayed the lingering pain in her leg, but she said nothing about it. Her expression was blank,neither angry nor sad, just distant.

Without a word, she took a seat on the stool at the kitchen counter. Eva slid a plate towards her, the sound of porcelain against wood cutting through the silence.

They ate without speaking. Only the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the clinking of cutlery filled the air. The tension from the night before hung between them,unspoken, but felt.

After a long minute, Eva finally broke the silence.

“Don’t apologize,” she said softly, her voice steady but low. “We were both at fault.”

Layla looked up at her, in disbelief, but Eva didn’t meet her eyes. She took another sip of her tea, then added, “Just finish your breakfast and get ready. Rayan’s coming. You have to go shopping for your college.”

The moment Eva said his name, Layla’s anger scattered as if blown away by a sudden wind. The single word, Rayan, pulled every thread of her attention until nothing else existed. She sat very still, unaware of the world narrowing to that one word.

A soft knock at the door startled them both. Eva glanced at Layla. “I’ll get it,” she said, rising. “Maybe it’s Rayan. I didn’t think he’d come so soon.”

She crossed the hall and opened the door.

Rayan stood on the threshold. He said nothing. He didn’t smile or nod, his face unreadable, his expression flat as a winter sky. Without the smallest greeting, he stepped inside.

Eva blinked in disbelief, then forced a teasing laugh. “Well, hello. You’re early.” She smiled with a knife-edge of sarcasm. “You could at least say hi. I know military types are all business, but come on, be civilized.”

Rayan’s gaze slid past her, cool and unmoved. He made no reply.

Eva’s tone hardened into mock resignation. “Fine. Clearly you’re not here for me, go talk to Layla, then. I’ll go out.” She leaned close to Layla, half-warning, half-jest. “Finish your breakfast, okay? Don’t make a mess, and—” Her voice dropped to something dangerous and fierce while glancing at him. “—if anything happens to her, I’ll kill you. Got it?”

She said him with seriousness but he paid no mind.

Then, with a huff and another sharp look at him, Eva shut the door behind her and left, her footsteps fading down the street.

Layla remained frozen where she sat, the room closing in around her. Rayan’s presence filled the doorway like a shadow; his silence felt louder than any word. She watched him, breath shallow, as the morning outside seemed to hold its breath along with her.

Rayan stood by the doorway, his gaze steady on her. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, just watched as Layla quietly picked at her breakfast, pretending not to notice.

The silence stretched between them, heavy but not uncomfortable,just… charged. Layla’s fingers tightened around her fork as she realized she hadn’t touched her food for several seconds. With a small, nervous breath, she forced herself to continue eating, her movements a little too careful, a little too fast.

Two minutes passed. Rayan finally broke the silence.

“Hi,” he said simply.

Layla froze, her spoon halfway to her mouth. Slowly, she lifted her eyes toward him. “Hi,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “How… how are you?”

“I’m good,” he said, his tone calm and detached. He didn’t return the question, didn’t ask how she was or what she’d been doing. His eyes, however, never left hers.

That steady gaze made Layla’s pulse quicken. Her breath caught somewhere between her throat and chest. She looked down, trying to hide the faint tremble in her hands but it wasn’t from fear. It was something else. Something she didn’t quite understand.

When Layla finished her breakfast, Rayan quietly came forward. Without a word, he reached for her plate, gathered the dishes, and carried them to the kitchen.

Layla blinked, caught off guard. Her eyes followed him in disbelief as he rolled up his sleeves and began washing the dishes she had just used. The sight was strange yet expected. She was used to seeing him, so composed and self-contained, doing something so ordinary.

Why not?, she was seeing him for about seven years now, when she was just ten. He is, his father's right man in his squad.

When he returned, his face was calm again, his voice even.

“If you’re ready,” he said, “come on. We can go.”

Layla nodded quickly, her tone soft and almost shy. “I just need to brush my hair first… then we can go.”

“Alright,” he replied, his expression neutral but his voice gentler than before.

Layla stood up, brushing back her messy, straight hair that fell freely around her face. There was no makeup on her skin, only the soft flush of her natural cheeks and the warmth of her light brown eyes. Her white skirt and simple white shirt made her look effortlessly delicate, like morning light made human.

Rayan’s gaze lingered for a moment, unreadable. He seemed more at ease now, his posture relaxed, his expression softer than when Eva was around. Still, he kept a respectful distance between them ,measured, deliberate.

He was older, composed, and grounded in a way that made his presence both comforting and heavy all at once.

Layla brushed her hair quickly, trying to calm the flutter in her chest that she couldn’t explain. When she returned, Rayan was already standing near the door, keys in hand, his posture relaxed but his gaze as steady as ever.

Without a word, he opened the door for her. She hesitated for a second, then stepped out, her white skirt catching the faint morning breeze. The world outside felt brighter, calmer but also strangely new.

The drive began in silence. The soft hum of the engine filled the space between them. Layla sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap, stealing glances at him when she thought he wouldn’t notice. His expression stayed calm focused on the road, his jaw set in quiet thought.

She didn’t know what to say. There was something about him that made words feel unnecessary, even heavy. The air in the car wasn’t cold, but it carried a kind of gravity she couldn’t shake.

After a while, Rayan spoke, his tone even and low.

“You’re quiet.”

Layla blinked and looked at him, startled by the sudden sound of his voice. “I… I don’t know what to say,” she admitted softly, looking out the window.

He glanced at her through the mirror, just once, before focusing back on the road. “You don’t have to,” he said simply.

And somehow, that small line, so effortless, so gently made her chest tighten.