Walking into the mansion, the first thing I heard was yelling. Sharp, angry yelling that cut through the quiet halls like a knife. My stomach twisted into knots, but I couldn’t stop myself. I ran up the stairs, two steps at a time, my heart thumping so loud it felt like it might burst out of my chest. The yelling was louder now, more desperate, more dangerous. I knew exactly where it was coming from—my mum and stepfather’s room.

When I reached the doorway, my legs nearly gave out. What I ...