Chapter 3: The Weight of the World
January 27, 1975
Sophia and Matthew had managed to save up $120 since the previous day. Sophia had spent hours babysitting for Mrs. Hendricks down the street, folding laundry, and helping with chores. Matthew, on the other hand, had been busy working on a few commissions—sketching portraits for neighbors and even mowing lawns for the elderly Mrs. Phillips who lived two houses down. It wasn't much, but every dollar felt like a tiny victory, a small step toward freedom.
As they sat in their room, Matthew was hunched over his desk, sketching in a notebook with intense focus. The room was dim, the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the cracked blinds, casting long shadows over the floor. Sophia sat on the edge of her bed, counting the money they had saved.
"$120," she muttered, her voice filled with a mixture of exhaustion and hope. "We're getting there. Slowly, but we are."
Matthew paused, glancing over at the money. "It's enough to get us started. Just a few more jobs, and we'll have enough for bus fare... Maybe even a place to stay when we get out of here."
Sophia nodded. She still couldn't shake the image of their parents from her mind. The constant fights, the degrading comments, the way their home felt more like a prison than a place of refuge. But more than anything, the thought of being free, of leaving it all behind, had been consuming her every waking moment.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," Matthew called, though his tone was tense.
The door creaked open, revealing Katherine standing there, her expression unreadable. Her eyes flicked to the pile of money on Sophia's bed, and a cold silence fell between them.
"What are you two up to?" Katherine asked, her voice sharp, as though she could already sense the tension in the air.
Sophia quickly hid the money under the pillow, trying to keep the conversation casual. "Nothing, Mom. Just... you know, catching up."
Katherine stepped inside, crossing her arms over her chest. "Catching up? With what exactly? You two are always in here plotting something." She glared at Matthew. "You've been out in the yard all day, painting and... what exactly are you doing that's so important?"
Matthew sighed, closing his notebook and looking up at his mother with a restrained calmness. "Just doing what I can, Mom. Making money, like you've asked us to. Can't you just leave us alone for once?"
Katherine's eyes narrowed, her temper flaring. "Leave you alone? You think you can just waltz out of this house without consequences? You're lucky I haven't thrown you out already, you ungrateful little—"
Before she could finish, the front door slammed open with a loud thud. Branson's heavy footsteps echoed through the house, and he stomped into the room, his face flushed with irritation.
"What's all this yelling about?" he demanded, his voice deep and angry.
Katherine turned toward him, her eyes filled with contempt. "These two are up to something. I don't trust them."
Branson stepped into the room, glaring down at Matthew and Sophia. "I told you both to stay out of trouble. And now I see you're hoarding money in here. What exactly are you planning, huh?"
Sophia's heart raced. She had to think quickly. The last thing she wanted was for them to know what she and Matthew had been planning. They couldn't risk their escape being discovered.
"It's just savings," Sophia said, her voice trying to remain calm, though she could feel her hands trembling. "We've been doing extra work. It's nothing."
Branson scoffed. "Extra work? You think you're fooling anyone? You think you can just take our money and run? You're not going anywhere. You're mine, and you're not leaving this house."
Matthew stood up suddenly, his fists clenched. "You don't own us anymore, Branson," he spat, his anger spilling over. "We're not your property."
The tension in the room shot up, and Katherine's face darkened with fury. "You're a disrespectful little brat, Matthew. We gave you everything, and this is how you repay us? I knew it! I knew you two were planning something!"
Sophia could feel the walls closing in around them. The pressure was too much, but they couldn't let their parents win. Not now, not ever. They had to keep their plans safe.
Katherine's voice was dripping with venom as she approached Sophia, her eyes burning with rage. "You're going to regret this. You don't get to leave. You'll stay here under my roof until I say otherwise, and if you don't like it, tough."
Matthew took a step forward, standing between his sister and their mother. "No, you don't get to decide that anymore. We're done being controlled by you."
Branson pushed past Katherine, his face twisted in anger. "If you think you can just walk out and start a new life, you're dead wrong. You're not going anywhere until I say so."
There was a moment of silence as everyone stared each other down, the air heavy with unspoken threats. Finally, Katherine stepped back, a wicked smile curling on her lips.
"You two think you can just escape from this house and live happily ever after?" she sneered. "Let me make this clear: you can't escape me. You can't escape us."
Matthew's jaw tightened. "We'll see about that," he whispered.
Katherine shot him a sharp look before turning to leave the room. "We'll see about that. Just know this: if you try to run, you won't get far. I'll make sure of it."
As soon as the door slammed shut, Sophia and Matthew exchanged a glance. Their parents' words stung, but they couldn't afford to let fear dictate their actions. They had to be smarter, bolder. And most of all, they had to be prepared.
"We can't back down now," Matthew whispered, the determination in his eyes stronger than ever.
Sophia nodded, her gaze hardening. "We'll make our move. We just need to be patient."
It was the beginning of a new phase in their plan—a phase that would require more careful steps, more thought-out strategies. But they were determined to get away from their broken, toxic home.
For now, they would wait. But the weight of their decisions loomed over them, and the taste of freedom felt farther away than ever.
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