**THE GIRL'S POV**
Uncle Marcus stepped out from the hallway, his salt-and-pepper hair disheveled, his face lined with exhaustion. At fifty, he carried the weight of years of regret in his slumped shoulders. "Seraphina, why must you always torment her?"
Aunt Seraphina whirled on him, her nostrils flaring. "You always taking her side! What spell has she cast on you, old man?"
Without waiting for a reply, she snapped her attention back to me. "Don't just stand there gawking. Go wash the dishes!" With a final glare, she stormed off, her footsteps echoing like a death knell.
I stood frozen, tears welling in my eyes, until Uncle Marcus pulled me into a warm embrace. "Oh, my dear Lily.. don't cry, sweetheart."
His calloused hand cradled my head as he pressed a gentle kiss to my temple. The dam broke. "Uncle... Uncle..." I sobbed into his chest, my fingers clutching his shirt like a lifeline.
"Shh... It's alright to cry. Let it out." His voice was a soft murmur, his palm rubbing soothing circles on my back. "I failed you... I couldn't keep the promise I made to your mother." When my tears finally slowed, he cupped my face, his thumbs brushing away the wet trails.
"Listen closely," he whispered, a mischievous glint in his tired eyes. "I washed the dishes while your aunt wasn't looking and was busy with your elder sister doing beauty facial. Don't tell her, alright? And there's food in your drawer enough for you. Eat it quietly, hmm?"
A weak laugh escaped me. "You shouldn't go through so much trouble for me, Uncle. You need to take care of yourself too..."
He chuckled, ruffling my hair. "Worry about yourself first, stubborn girl." As I shuffled toward my room, I heard his muttered words, heavy with regret: "I should have never married that woman."
The moment my bedroom door closed behind me, I sagged against it, the weight of the day crashing down. My fingers trembled as I opened the drawer, revealing a carefully wrapped food packet steaming mushroom soup, soft dumplings, and a slice of buttered bread. Fresh tears blurred my vision. "Poor Uncle... he's sacrificing so much for me. What if he gave me his own portion?" My chest ached at the thought. "If he did, I swear I won't speak to him for a week."
A gruff voice called through the door, laced with fond exasperation: "Foolish girl, eat. I already had my fill." I smiled through my tears, clutching the warm bowl to my chest.
I ate the dumplings slowly, the warmth of the soup spreading through my body, soothing my hollow stomach. But no amount of warmth could ease the dread coiled tight in my chest. "Mom… Dad… where are you?" I whispered into the silence. "Tomorrow, that man will take me. I can't—I won't let him. I have to run. Far away, before he can drag me into that nightmare." After finishing the meal, I set the empty bowl aside and trudged to the bathroom.
The scalding water of the shower burned my skin, but I welcomed the pain—it was proof I was still here, still me. The cold air bit into my damp skin the moment I stepped out, and I shivered violently as I tugged on my sweater and sweatpants. My wet hair clung to my neck as I wrapped it in a towel, staring blankly out the window. The sky was already darkening at 6 p.m.* Had time always moved this cruelly fast? "What if none of this is real?" I pressed my palms to my eyes. "What if it's all just stress, a horrible dream?"
A sharp knock shattered the illusion. Isabella stood at the door, her lips curled in that familiar, venomous smile. My uncle and aunt's daughter three years older, and a lifetime crueler. "Yes? What do you want?" I kept my voice soft, but she only laughed. "Ohhh, the poor little orphan. Tell me, do you actually think my dad's pathetic pity will turn you into a queen?"
"When did I ever say that?" I muttered. She stepped closer, her manicured nails glinting under the light. "Don't talk back to me."Her voice dropped to a hiss. "I know exactly what's going on in that useless head of yours. So listen carefully tomorrow night, there's a party. You'll cook, decorate, and do whatever my friends ask. No mistakes. No excuses." She yanked my hair, forcing me to meet her eyes. "Or I'll make sure my mother hears exactly how ungrateful you've been." My stomach twisted.
Tomorrow. The same day he would come for me. How? How could I run if I will be trapped here? "O-okay… I'll do it," I whispered. Isabella smirked and sauntered away, leaving me numb. Exhaustion weighed me down like chains. These women my aunt, my cousin were monsters in pretty dresses. But if I ran… who would protect Uncle Marcus from their wrath? I collapsed onto my bed, my body sinking into the thin mattress. The day had been a relentless storm, and I was too tired to even cry. "Goodnight to myself,"I murmured, closing my eyes. Maybe tomorrow would never come.