>Mallory
I cannot even remember how long I've been inside this dark, musty room now. The air is heavy with dampness, clinging to my skin like a second layer I can't escape. I've been eating nothing but the stale scraps they tossed at me these past few days, and I haven't even changed my dress; it feels stiff with dried sweat and dust.
All I can do is sit motionless in one corner, knees tucked into my chest, eyes fixed on the door as if staring long enough might magically unlock it. They took my phone and my bag the moment they locked me in here, so calling for help isn't even an option.
I'm so hungry.
My stomach twists painfully, the dull ache echoing through my entire body. I bury my head in my arms, letting out a shaky breath. Looks like I won't be leaving today either.
Just then, a sudden creak reverberated through the room as the door slowly opened. I lifted my head, the burst of hallway light stabbing into my eyes until everything blurred white. I instinctively raised a hand to shield my face from the brightness. A silhouette of a woman stepped inside—stern posture, hair streaked with gray.
The head maid.
"Wash up. The eldest daughter will be visiting today," she said, her clipped voice breaking the stale silence.
The eldest daughter—Allisha Morrow. The woman who molded this family into what it is now. She never laid a hand on me, but she also never stopped what was happening. Despite knowing everything, she stayed indifferent and even approved my marriage… all for the family name.
Still, as long as she was present, no one dared lay a finger on me.
During lunch, the sound of utensils clinking lightly against plates filled the dining hall, but no one spoke. The suffocating silence made each bite harder to swallow. Every movement made me hyperaware of the stinging pain blooming across my cheeks where they had struck me.
Allisha glanced toward me. Her emotionless hazel eyes darkened, and fear shot through my body like electricity.
"Who told you to hit her face?" she asked coldly, turning her gaze to her mother.
Mrs. Morrow sighed and delicately put her utensils down, as if the conversation bored her. "That bitch fought back. Can't you be more concerned for your little sister? Look at her jaw." She reached over to hold Eleina's hand, stroking it gently like she was comforting a toddler.
"If you didn't cause a scene, you wouldn't have that," Allisha replied, voice flat and controlled. Eleina pouted, lips trembling in spoiled frustration, but she didn't dare talk back.
That was the thing about Allisha. She had lived through their father's infidelity, watched her mother spiral into madness right after I was born, and then was forced to raise Eleina, who was born amidst the chaos. She was the one who tried to put this family together, piece by shattered piece.
It made sense she would run away the moment she could—but she also couldn't stand to watch the family she tried so hard to fix fall apart again.
"What's the news about your engagement, Eleina?" she asked, dabbing her lips with a napkin. I observed them silently, eyes lowered to avoid drawing unnecessary attention.
"Jeez! That man hasn't even visited once since the announcement! I heard he's gay, too—that's why he's never had a girlfriend!" Eleina complained, stabbing her steak with unnecessary aggression.
"Sister, I don't want to get married! I heard he's super arrogant! Can you bear seeing me with a man like that?" she whined, her voice dripping with the spoiled tone that always made my nerves twitch.
"Eleina. You're not a child anymore," Allisha said calmly, not raising her voice even once. "You should be grateful. You're my sister—someone else doesn't have the privilege you have."
My throat tightened. Allisha had never once called me by my name. It was always that girl, that woman, her. And now it was clear—I was the someone who lacked privilege.
I bit my lip until I tasted blood. Saying anything would be pointless. My words would bounce off them like stones thrown at a fortress wall.
"But sister—"
"Would you rather marry Mr. Barrow then?" Allisha shot her a sharp look that sliced through Eleina's complaints instantly.
Eleina paled, glared, then abruptly pushed her chair back. Her heels clicked furiously against the marbled floor as she stormed to her room.
"Come on, Allisha! You didn't have to be that harsh! She was only sulking!" Mrs. Morrow protested as she followed her daughter upstairs.
The table became even more suffocating with the three of us remaining—me, Allisha, and the patriarch who pretended to be invisible. Allisha refused to speak to her father or to me. The silence felt like a noose tightening around my throat.
Why was I left with these two?!
Suddenly, a violent churn twisted my stomach. A wave of nausea surged upward.
"Blegh—" I slapped a hand over my mouth and stumbled to my feet. I sprinted to the nearest bathroom before I humiliated myself in front of them.
The moment I reached the sink, I crumpled to the floor, gripping the porcelain edge as my stomach lurch violently. Food scraps and bitter acid burned my throat on the way out.
My eyes watered. My entire body trembled.
Indigestion? Maybe. Honestly, sharing a meal with those two was enough to make anyone sick.
I rinsed my mouth, splashing cool water over my face. But then, another wave of nausea rose abruptly, intense enough to bend me over the sink again. The second round left me panting, knuckles white as I clutched the sink for support.
And then it struck me.
It's been weeks since I was locked in that room. Weeks… and I knew my body well enough to recognize the signs.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
I hurried to my small maid's room, a cramped wooden space barely big enough for a single bed. I dug through my belongings, tossing aside folded shirts and notebooks until I finally found my bag on the cushion.
I tore it open, rummaging frantically until my fingers brushed something plastic.
The pregnancy test Mara shoved into my hands before I left her car.
"Just in case," she'd joked.
Thank God Mrs. Morrow didn't bother searching my things.
I rushed back to the bathroom, my hands trembling uncontrollably. Minutes later, when I finally dared to look…
Two red lines.
Positive.
A tidal wave of emotion crashed into me—fear, disbelief, relief, hope. I didn't know which to hold on to. Tears pooled in my eyes, blurring the small window in front of me. My hand flew to my mouth as a sob slipped out without permission.
I slid down to the floor, curling over myself as silent tears spilled freely.
"It might be wrong that I conceived you for my own selfish reason…" My voice broke, barely audible even to myself. "But I'll make sure you're safe. I'll make you happy. You won't live the same nightmare I lived."
My palm rested over my stomach.
"Thank you," I whispered, voice cracking.
"For saving me… my child."
____
"Congrats, girl! What's your plan?" Mara's bright voice echoed through the phone.
I sat cross-legged on my tiny bed, staring at the test resting on the blanket beside me.
"What else?" I muttered. "I know that old man. He'll cancel the engagement the moment he finds out I'm pregnant."