Chapter 201.

"No, Kylie." Christain refused.

She straightened. "What? Leave, now."

Christian stepped closer. His voice was quieter now. "Speak to me."

"Christian, I said I need—"

"I heard you." His eyes stayed on hers. "But I’m not going to pretend I didn’t hear what you said before that."

Kylie frowned. She immediately got defensive. "What did I say?"

"That maybe your dad was right."

Her expression changed.

Christian’s jaw tightened slightly. "What did your father say about you?"

"Nothing." The edge of her voice hardened. "I need a moment."

Christain didn’t back down. "You don’t say ’my dad was right’ when something is nothing."

"I don’t want to talk about him." She snapped.

"Fine." Christain gently agreed.

She blinked, taken aback. Her anger, fear, and defensiveness disappeared almost immediately.

Christian’s expression remained calm. "Then talk about what he made you believe."

Kylie stared at him.

For several seconds, she said nothing.

The room suddenly felt too quiet. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the laptop. She could hear the faint hum of the air conditioner.

And somehow, that made it harder.

Because memories were strange things. Sometimes they arrived screaming. Other times, they simply opened a door.

Kylie swallowed. "He said I wouldn’t last in anything."

Christian stayed silent.

"He said I liked attention too much. That I wasn’t disciplined. That I liked playing around too much to commit to something difficult."

Her voice became smaller.

"He said people would take one look at me and never believe I was serious."

Christian’s expression hardened. "And you believed him?"

Kylie looked down. "I was a kid."

Christian frowned.

Kylie looked toward the window.

"I didn’t understand what discipline meant. I didn’t understand what commitment meant. I just understood that my father was angry."

Her voice faltered. "And when he was angry, I tried to become smaller."

Christian said nothing.

Kylie rubbed her palms together.

"I thought if I was quiet enough, good enough, smart enough, he would stop being angry with me."

She paused. "He never did."

Christian’s eyes softened.

Kylie looked at the floor. "I remember one night." Her voice became barely audible. "I was five."

And suddenly, she wasn’t twenty-one anymore.

She was five years old again, curled beneath her bed, and listening to her father’s footsteps downstairs.

...

BACKSTORY:

The first thing Little Kylie heard was the harsh sound. A cupboard slammed downstairs, and then something else followed.

A plate.

It shattered against the wall.

Little Kylie squeezed her eyes shut. She pressed both hands over her ears, but it didn’t help.

The apartment wasn’t large enough to hide sound. Her father’s voice traveled through every room.

He sounded so angry, and loud. His voice travelled to her so sharp enough to make her stomach hurt.

Kylie had crawled underneath the bed before he came upstairs.

She was too young to know why. She only knew that when her father came home angry, hiding was safer.

So she stayed there.

Her little body curled against the cold floor. Her knees were tucked against her chest. She could see dust beneath the bed.

Downstairs, her mother cried.

Kylie’s fingers tightened around the edge of her dress. "Mummy?"

She whispered it so quietly that nobody could hear.

Her father’s voice rose again. Her mother said something, but Kylie couldn’t make out the words.

Then came another crash.

Kylie flinched. She wanted to go downstairs, and she wanted to help her mother, but she was five, and she was terrified.

So she stayed beneath the bed.

She listened.

Her mother’s voice came again. Crying, and begging.

Kylie waited. She held her breath, but there was nothing. Her mother’s voice came again. A whimper.

Kylie squeezed her eyes shut. "Mummy..."

She wanted to call for help, but didn’t know who to call.

Her mother’s crying became quieter.

Her father’s voice continued, and then another sound came. Something heavy hit the floor violently.

Kylie covered her mouth.

She wanted to scream, but she knew she couldn’t.

She stayed underneath the bed until the sound of her mother’s voice disappeared completely.

That was what finally made her move.

The silence after a fight had always made Kylie imagine the worse.

Kylie slowly crawled out.

Her knees shook beneath her. She stood in the middle of the bedroom for several seconds, listening.

"Mummy?"

There was no answer.

Kylie walked toward the bedroom door. She opened it slowly. The hallway was dark.

She stepped out.

One small foot came first, and then the other. Her fingers held tightly to the wall as she made her way toward the stairs.

She could smell something strange, and metallic. She didn’t understand what it was. She reached the top of the stairs, and then she looked down.

Her father was standing in the living room.

His back was turned.

Kylie froze.

He slowly turned, and his eyes found her immediately. She stopped breathing.

His face was still angry.

Kylie stood by the stairs, trembling. Her little fingers gripped the railing harder.

Her father stared at her. His cold angry gaze moved down her small body.

Litrle Kylie nervously swallowed. "Mummy?"

Her voice was barely audible. She looked toward the floor.

Her mother was lying there.

Kylie didn’t understand what she was seeing.

Her mother was awake, but barely. Her face was turned to the side. There was blood at the corner of her mouth.

Kylie’s fear disappeared for a moment. "Mummy!" She hurried down the stairs. Her tiny feet stumbled over the last step.

She rushed to her mother and dropped beside her.

"Mummy?"

Her little hand reached for her face. She wiped the blood from the corner of her mother’s mouth with her thumb.

Her mother’s eyelids fluttered. "Khy..."

The sound was weak.

Kylie smiled through her tears. "Let’s go to bed."

She looked up.

Her father was still watching her. His voice came from behind her. "The school told me you failed two homeworks today."

Kylie froze.

"They said you sent them back undone."

Her lips trembled. She looked at her mother, then back at him.

"I..."

Her father’s footsteps came closer.

Kylie’s knees shook. "I didn’t..."

"You didn’t?" His voice was cold.

Kylie swallowed. "I tried."

"You tried?" He stopped in front of her. "You’re five years old."

Kylie looked down. "You’re supposed to be learning."

Her eyes filled with tears. "I tried to do them."

"Then why weren’t they done?"

"Mummy..." Her voice cracked. "Mummy wasn’t well."

Her father stared at her.

"I tried to call you."

"You called me?"

Kylie nodded quickly. "You didn’t answer."

His expression darkened. "And what exactly was I supposed to do about that?"

Kylie didn’t know. She looked at her mother. "Mummy said she wasn’t feeling well."

Her father’s eyes narrowed. "So you decided you didn’t have to do your work?"

"No." Kylie shook her head quickly. Her bright eyes stared at him innocently. "I tried."

"You’re always trying." His voice was full of contempt.

Kylie’s eyes filled.

"You’re always making excuses." He stepped closer. "You’re such a waste of my effort."

Kylie flinched.

Her mother tried to move. "Leave her..." Her voice was weak.

Her father ignored her. "You’re five years old and already acting like this."

Kylie’s lips trembled.

Her father reached down and grabbed her wrist.

Kylie screamed in terror. Her eyes widened, and fear filled them. "Mummy!"