freedom taste like you

Chapter 11

“You want our money, don’t you?” he asked, eyes narrowing like sharp edges.

“What? No!” I answered, a bit offended, my voice trembling. How dare he say that? He didn’t even know me, and he was already accusing me of something so terrible.

“Then what’s your main goal here?” he pressed, his voice cold. “Are you sure your parents are dead, or is this some kind of teenage prank?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off with a dismissive scoff.

“Because if it is, it’s not working for me.” He folded his arms, trying to look intimidating—but trust me, he couldn’t hold a candle to my father.

“I’m not pranking you, or whatever you call it,” I said quietly, eyes on the floor. “My parents are dead.” My voice cracked as I looked up at him, tears pooling. “I’m serious.”

For a brief second, his expression softened. Concern flickered behind his eyes—almost human, almost gentle—but just as quickly, it vanished. His face hardened again, and his eyes went cold.

“You’re such a liar,” he said in a low, dangerous tone. “You think your innocent act is going to work on me? Well, you’re wrong.”

He stepped closer, close enough for me to feel the warmth of his breath. Then, with each word, he poked my forehead.

“Not. Working. On. Me.”

I flinched at every poke, my heart pounding like it used to when my father got too close. I swallowed hard, my hands trembling. For a moment, I thought I’d escaped my old life. I thought this place might finally be my safe haven. But looking into his cold eyes, I realized maybe I’d just traded one kind of fear for another.

“Are you crying?” he asked suddenly, a mocking smirk pulling at his lips. “You’re the best liar I’ve met so far. Hope you get an award for it.”

He turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. His voice dropped to a warning, sharp and filled with something I couldn’t name.

“Stay away from my mum. I’m warning you.”

And with that, he left me there—alone with my thoughts, my heartbeat, and the sting of his words.

I sank to the floor, hugging myself. Why does everyone think I’m a liar? I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. I just wanted a place to belong.

The only person who seemed kind here was Emma. She’d welcomed me with open arms, made me feel like I mattered—if only for a moment. Her husband… I wasn’t sure about him yet, and honestly, I didn’t want to find out.

Wiping my tears, I pushed myself up and walked through the parlour without looking around. My feet felt heavy as I started up the stairs, each step echoing louder than it should.

“Amber, is something wrong?” Emma’s voice came from behind me.

I froze halfway up the stairs and forced a shaky smile she couldn’t see. “I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Just going to rest a bit.”

“You sure?” she asked gently, her footsteps approaching.

I took a deep breath, turned around, and gave her the smile I always wore when I needed to hide the truth. “It’s okay, really. I’m fine.”

She didn’t look convinced. Her eyes lingered on me a second longer before she finally nodded. “Alright, sweetie. I’ll check on you later, okay?”

I nodded, still smiling, and turned back toward my room. Once the door closed behind me, I locked it and collapsed on my bed, burying my face in the pillow. The sobs came fast and sharp, the kind I tried to swallow but couldn’t. I cried until my chest hurt, praying no one would hear.

Then came the knock.

I froze. My first instinct was fear—my father used to knock like that before—

No. He’s gone. He’s not here.

Clearing my throat, I whispered, “I’m coming.”

I wiped my eyes, tried to steady my voice, and opened the door. Emma stood there, her eyes soft and worried.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

I nodded. It was her house, after all.

She stepped inside, and before I could even turn to face her, she wrapped her arms around me. The warmth of her hug broke something open inside me. I didn’t realize how much I’d needed it until now.

Almost instinctively, I hugged her back, clinging to her like she was the only thing holding me together. The smell of her perfume, the gentle rub of her hand on my back—it all felt like the mother I never had.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she whispered, her voice soothing. “You don’t have to hide anymore.”

And in that moment, for the first time in a long, long time…

I let myself believe her.