Bab 12: No Other Choice

TERESA'S P.O.V.

The mansion loomed ahead, all grandeur and coldness wrapped in one. I could feel it even before stepping inside—its walls suffocating, its air thick with the tension of years unspoken. The scent of polished mahogany and aged leather hit me as soon as I opened the door, making my stomach churn. I wasn't ready for this. But I had to be.

I took a deep breath, walking through the familiar hallways. They echoed with memories I'd rather forget, and as I approached my father's office, that sharp scent of his cologne hit me—bitter and commanding, like him. The door was slightly ajar, as if daring me to step inside and confront my fate.

When I entered, my father was sitting at his desk, looking as if the world outside this room didn't exist. His face was set in that familiar, emotionless mask, one that said he wouldn't care how much I begged or pleaded.

"I'll do it," I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound composed. "I'll do as you ask. But please… just leave Luke and his family alone."

His eyes flicked up from his papers, and I saw the tiniest smirk curl at the corner of his mouth. That smirk made my blood boil, but I swallowed it down, waiting for his response.

"Teresa," he began, leaning back in his chair, "your senseless pleas and tears won't move me. Luke is safe as long as you do what I tell you. No running away. No clever ideas. You'll follow through with the plan, or Luke pays the price. Understood?"

I nodded, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood. His indifference stung more than I thought possible.

"The man you're going to work for," he continued, as if we were discussing the weather, "is… difficult. He hates everyone. Stay out of his way, don't speak unless spoken to, and you'll survive the next five months just fine. Simple enough, isn't it?"

Difficult? Hates everyone? This was just getting better by the second.

"You'll pack your bags tonight," he went on, eyes already back on his papers. "Be here at 6 a.m. sharp tomorrow. We're heading over to his place. And don't make me repeat myself."

My mouth opened, ready to protest, but the look he shot me silenced me immediately. Cold. Sharp. It was his way of saying, 'one more word and you'll regret it.'

"Now leave my sight," he added, his voice like ice.

I was halfway to the door when I stopped, something inside me stirring. Maybe it was foolish, maybe it was brave, but I turned around and blurted out before I could stop myself, "Why do you hate Luke and I so much?" My hands trembled and my eyes stung with unshed tears," Why do you love them and not us? Your 'new' children… what makes them better than your 'old' ones?"

I expected a pause, maybe even a flicker of regret in his eyes. But no. His face remained unchanged, his lips tightening in irritation.

"Shut your mouth, Teresa," he snapped. "It's my family, and I'll treat anyone how I damn well please. Now get out."

Swallowing hard, I turned and left, heart heavy, vision blurred by tears. The hallway felt longer, sadder, and colder as I made my way down, struggling not to let my tears fall, not to let my sorrow consume me. And then I saw them—my stepmom and her daughters, all smiles and sugar-coated venom.

Not now, I wasn't in the mood.

"Well, well, if it isn't Teresa," my stepmom cooed, her voice dripping with her usual fake sweetness. I sometimes wondered if she never got tired of being fake all the time. "I hear you're going to be working very hard. Playing the perfect little Jennifer for the next few months, hmm? Better make sure everything goes smoothly for Daddy's deal, darling."

Her daughters giggled, echoing her malice.

"And I hear," Jennifer added with a sneer, "that the man you're going to stay with is a real brute. Treats people like trash. Sounds like a perfect match, don't you think? Since you're less than trash yourself. I'm glad Dad always looks out for me. I can't imagine myself fetching coffee or whatnot for someone like that. It must suck to be you."

They all laughed, and I felt my chest tighten, but I just kept walking, too drained to fire back. Their words clung to me like dirt, and I hated how much they got under my skin. But they did.

When I finally got home, the house felt emptier than ever. I collapsed onto my bed and let the tears fall. I cried until my body felt hollow, like there wasn't anything left inside. It was like I was disappearing, bit by bit, with every tear that fell.

Packing my bags only made it worse. Every shirt I folded felt like a final goodbye, like I was preparing to leave behind everything that made me me. When I was done, I sat on my bed, staring at my packed suitcase, feeling like the weight of the world was sitting on top of it. How did my life end up here?

By the time I managed to get up, the house felt too quiet. I tidied up, trying to distract myself from the crushing silence, but it didn't help. When I made dinner, I couldn't even taste the food. I was just eating to pass time, to keep myself from collapsing under the sadness that was threatening to drown me.

Later, as I washed the dishes, my mind raced. I couldn't stop thinking about Luke, about how much I wanted to tell him everything. He was the only one who ever understood me, but I couldn't drag him into this. Not when I knew what my father would do if I told him.

After my shower, I grabbed my phone and hesitated, staring at the screen. How could I lie to him? But I had to. For his sake.

I typed, "Hey, Luke. I just wanted to let you know I'll be away for a while. I've been offered this… weird work thing, kind of a live-in job, but don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Just take care of yourself and the family, okay? Everything will be sorted out soon. I promise."

The words felt wrong, but I hit send anyway. Lying to him like this felt like ripping out a piece of my soul.

I didn't sleep that night. How could I? My mind kept replaying every awful moment of the day, over and over, until I felt like I was losing my grip. By the time 5 a.m. rolled around, I was already dressed and out the door, feeling like a ghost.

The sun wasn't even up yet, and the world was dark and quiet, like it was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen.

And I guess, in a way, it was.

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KIRIM HADIAH

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