Chapter 30
1219 Words
Aura’s POV
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I stood by the window, arms folded against the chill seeping in through the glass, my forehead resting lightly on it.
A hollow sat deep in my chest—cold, heavy, aching.
A month.
Four freaking week since Leon left. No call. No message. No returned glance.
Was I that unbearable to be around?
Did he regret helping me?
The way he left that day, with fire in his eyes and silence in his mouth, had replayed in my mind so many times it had begun to feel like a dream—no, a nightmare. Maybe I did something wrong… maybe—
My thoughts were cut off by the sound of tires against gravel.
My heart jumped.
I peeked through the curtains, hope flickering where it shouldn’t… only to see a convoy of black cars rolling in. The ones that usually followed Leon. I searched for him.
No sign.
Just exhausted-looking guards stepping out, their expressions worn and drained.
I swallowed and backed away.
Just like the last time.
And the time before that.
I had once tried asking one of them—where he was, if he was okay—but the guard just glanced at me, then turned away like I didn’t exist. Just like the maid warned.
Like I was a curse.
The silence in here was louder than screams now. It pressed in from the walls, curled around my throat. The maids didn’t speak to me. The guards didn’t look at me. The only person I even knew here was the man who hadn’t been back in two weeks.
My knees gave way, and I sat slowly on the edge of the bed.
“You came to life to take, not to give.”
My father’s voice—cutting, cruel, unforgiving—echoed in my mind again like a ghost I couldn’t outrun.
“Your mother left you with me because you were a burden.”
A single tear slid down my cheek, then another.
Am I a burden to Leon too?
Is that why he left?
No goodbye. No explanation. Just disappeared.
I looked around the massive room. The luxury… the silence… the nothingness.
I’d been here for months. And yet, I was still alone.
Still invisible.
Still unwanted.
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, sniffling quietly. My gaze landed on the small overnight bag in the corner. My fingers twitched.
Then, an idea struck.
A bold, desperate idea.
Mama Tee.
I could go back to Phoenicia.
Back to the little warmth I once knew.
Maybe I didn’t belong in this life of silent wealth and cold marble walls. Maybe I never did.
I stood up, heart pounding.
I didn’t know if Leon would come back… or if he even cared.
I needed someone.
I sighed deeply, the kind that comes from a chest too heavy, too full.
Just the mere thought of never seeing him again—of being free from the way he made my stomach twist and my mind race—should have brought relief.
But it didn’t.
I slumped back on the bed, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling.
Did I just thought of going back to Phoenicia?
How would I get to Phoenicia without a single dime?
I scoffed, dragging myself to the window again. The sun dipped below the horizon, washing the sky in streaks of orange and purple.
I stood there. For hours.
Just stood there.
Until the mansion was bathed in silence once again. Until the usual knock came at the door.
Dinner.
As always, placed quietly without a word. Probably served by someone who wouldn’t even look me in the eye.
I stared at the door, unmoved.
I won’t eat food made by people who despise me. Even if it wasn’t laced with poison, it was poisoned with thoughts. Thoughts of disdain. Of indifference. Of fear.
So I waited.
Until 11 p.m. ticked in with cold fingers.
Then I slowly opened the door and tiptoed out.
The halls were dark, quiet. Everyone had retired to their quarters.
The kitchen lights were off, but I knew the way now. I opened cabinets, softly—careful not to make noise—and looked through what was there.
After a moment, I settled on something easy: grilled cheese sandwiches and some frozen fries I found. No one to serve me, no one to glare. Just me and silence.
After cooking, I sat on the kitchen counter, legs dangling, and ate slowly.
Every bite felt warmer than any meal I’d had in days.
I washed the dishes afterward. A habit Dad and Marla taught me through harsh ways.
Something in me stirred when my gaze went to a part of the house.
Curiosity?
Restlessness?
Whatever it was, I decided to explore the house.
And so I wandered.
The mansion was huge. Too huge.
I found four living rooms in total, each more extravagant than the last. Plush couches. High-tech TVs. Chandeliers. Mood lighting. Like a magazine come to life.
There were rooms upon rooms. I stopped counting after ten.
A garden, hidden and peaceful. I never knew it existed.
A pool out back, glistening under the moonlight.
Then something surprising—a studio, filled with canvases, brushes, and drawings. Beautiful lines of charcoal and color. Some were landscapes. Some… abstract. And some felt like they held pain. Real pain.
Leon… drew?
That shook me a bit.
Then I opened a door and froze.
It was all dark inside.
An overwhelming silence spilled out from the room. Heavy.
I didn’t step in.
I didn’t have to.
I recognized it immediately—it was the room I’d locked myself in back then.
I shut the door quickly and made a mental note: Come back when I have a flashlight or something. No need to revisit old darkness in the dark.
I kept walking and opened another door.
This one? A study.
And it was… stunning.
All black and grey.
Dark bookshelves filled with thick, leather-bound novels. A large black mahogany desk sat by the tall windows. Papers arranged in perfect stacks. A glass globe on one corner. The scent of paper and Leon’s cologne lingered in the air.
The walls were lined with grey-tinted bookcases, reaching the ceiling. A small couch, charcoal grey, sat in the corner with a reading lamp.
Cold. Beautiful.
Just like him.
I wiped sweat off my forehead. My feet were aching from walking so long.
Only one door left.
At the very end of the hallway.
I reached it slowly… and tried to open it.
Locked.
Figures.
Leon’s room.
The master.
I stared at it for a few seconds longer, as if it would suddenly open and he’d walk out.
But nothing.
I sighed and turned back, dragging my steps to my room.
The clock read 1:30 AM.
I peeled off my clothes and headed to the bathroom for a long bath. The warmth of the water soothed me, but it couldn’t ease the worry that had started curling up inside me again.
I climbed onto the bed, hair damp, heart heavier.
A month.
No call. No message. No sign.
Did something happen?
Or… did he abandon me?
Just like mama did?
The thought burned.
Hot and painful.
And before I could stop it, tears spilled again.
- Writer
