DAVE

I couldn’t believe it. The truth she had told me had been there all along, but her lies had clouded everything. She had pushed me into this path, into seeing things the wrong way. If only she had trusted me, believed in me enough to be honest, she wouldn’t have had to pay the price. She’d still be safe, and I wouldn’t be sitting here, consumed by guilt and regret.

The silence that she left behind at the dining table was deafening. Her chair next to mine, was empty, and the void in it was eating away at me. One of the rules that we had in our family was that nobody ate unless we were all together. But this morning, it felt like an intolerable burden, despite the fact that it was a cherished custom.

Thank goodness, Mom intervened. Through some means, she was able to convince her to join us to eat. It seemed as though she was balanced on the ridge of something that was about to fall. Her movements were rigid and her presence was fragile when she eventually sat down.

She wouldn’t even meet my eyes. Not after what happened yesterday, after I’d given her what she needed, though not in the way she probably deserved. I had promised myself I’d make up for it, to fix things somehow, but as I watched her now, her silence felt like a punishment I couldn’t escape.

With concern written all over mom’s face, she broke the tight silence with her eyes focused on Evelyn, "What's wrong with you, Princess?" She questioned, her glance gentle yet curious, almost standing up from her seat.

Evelyn’s eyes, swollen and rimmed red, betrayed her even before she answered. They looked ready to spill over, as though the sheer weight of her unshed tears was too much for her to bear. She shifted uncomfortably, her voice barely audible as she muttered, “Nothing much. I just couldn’t sleep.”

But it wasn’t just sleeplessness; we all knew that. The dining felt charged with lies, the pressure thick enough to cut with a knife. Yet no one pressed further, leaving her to retreat into her silence while the rest of us pretended we could go on as if everything were normal.

“But darling, what’s with the bruises all over your body?” Mom’s voice broke the silence again, as her eyes scanned Evelyn’s face and neck, her fingers twitching like she wanted to reach out and examine them more closely.

Evelyn’s gaze flashed toward my hands with her hands touching her neck like the bruises just appeared after Mom mentioned it. The faintest shadow of accusation passed across her expression. My stomach churned, but I made a conscious effort to remain calm.

The sudden whiteness on Dad's face caught my attention, and I quickly switched my gaze towards him. As the terror was sucking his blood and guilt was plainly consuming him, his jaw tightened, and the lines on his forehead became deeper with his body burning with fire. I could tell he was blaming himself, believing the bruises were somehow linked to the heated conversation he’d had with her.

“All thanks to—” Evelyn began, her voice steady but laced with a bitterness that made my heart race.

Before she could finish, I cut in, my voice sharp and preplanned. I couldn’t let her say it, couldn’t risk her revealing that I was the one responsible for the marks marring her once flawless skin.

“Mom,” I said quickly, forcing a calm tone into my words, “all thanks to me for being there. It would’ve been so much worse if I hadn’t helped.” I managed a weak smile, though it felt like my guilt was seeping through every pore. “They’re just minor bruises, really. She fell yesterday in the garage. It wasn’t a big deal,” I said squeezing Evie’s lap.

Evelyn shifted in her seat, clearing her throat. She knew better than to challenge me now, especially in front of Mom and Dad. She wasn't allowed to add a word to what I had said. All her inclusions should be said in her mind. For a moment, I felt a hint of shame looking her in the eyes.

Mom heaved a sigh, altering her demeanor somewhat. Her concern was still concealed on her face, but it was less obvious when I explained the situation to her. "Ah, darling, please be careful the next time," she said softly.

I shot my gaze in the direction of Dad, observing his shoulders that appeared to have relaxed slightly. The expression of remorse that he had on his face hadn’t completely vanished, but it had become less harsh, and it was no longer acute enough to pierce through the pressure that was there in the dining room. It was obvious he silently persuading himself that it was nothing more than a mere accident, giving a slight nod.

But beneath the rigid facade, guilt continued to dug at my neck, a heavy weight that made it hard to breathe. I had gone too far and left scars that weren't meant to be on her formerly smooth skin— my body to be precise.

Though Evelyn stayed silent, but her eyes held a quiet defiance that I knew would haunt me long after this moment passed. She was scared of her devil brother.

After breakfast, I made my way to her room, my heart heavily piled up with

everything that had happened. I raised my hand to knock but hesitated, the silence on the other side of the door pressing against my resolve. When I finally tried the handle, it wouldn’t budge, she had locked herself in.

Frustrated and with guilt swirling inside of me, I stood there for a moment. I discarded the idea of scaling through the window right away even though it crossed my thoughts. The always observing nosy neighbors with their keen eyes ready to grab anything worth talking about. I couldn't afford to provide them another reason to snoop about our family.

Helplessly, I turned and headed back to my room trudging. The trek down the corridor seemed longer than normal, and every step brought back the harm I had caused. At last I closed the door behind me and with my head in my hands, I collapsed onto the edge of my bed. The solitude in my room was stifling, sharpening my ideas until they seemed intolerable.

I thought of how hurt she must be, how distant she had become. Unending and strong regret gnawed at me. But as I sat there, a faint twinkle of determination stirred within me. I couldn’t undo what I had done, but I could try to make things right.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Tomorrow would be different. I would find a way to apologize and prove to her I wasn’t the monster my actions had painted me to be. It wasn’t too late to fix this, at least not entirely.

And with that, a small sense of hope began to take root, pushing through the cracks of my guilt.