“Wow,” Kelsey sneered from the doorway, her voice dripping with mockery. “So this is the glorious Miss Sophia? What a mess you’ve become.”
Sophia raised her head, her eyes filled with hatred despite her weakness. Her voice was hoarse. “Give me the camera.”
Kelsey held it up with a taunting smirk. “This? But what would be the fun in that? I asked Herbert for it myself, and guess what—he didn’t say a word. Are you going to be petty now?”
Sophia didn’t waste energy arguing. She staggered to her feet, swaying from hunger and blood loss, and took one step forward.
“Give it back. I’m asking you for the last time.”
For a second, Kelsey’s gaze flickered with unease. Then she turned and fled out the door.
Sophia lunged after her, pressing her body against the door to stop it from closing. But she hadn’t eaten or slept in over a day. Her strength failed her. With a cruel slam, the door shut again, sealing her back inside.
Outside, Kelsey’s voice rang out, loud and gleeful.
“Want to come out? Call me ‘Auntie,’ and I’ll let you breathe fresh air for ten minutes.”
Silence.
Then, a soft ptoo.
“You don’t deserve that title,” Sophia spat bitterly.
Kelsey laughed. “Suit yourself. Enjoy your stay.”
Her footsteps faded. Sophia clenched her fists and dug her nails into the cracks of the door, but it didn’t budge. A wave of dizziness hit her—and then, nothing.
She collapsed.
---
When Sophia came to, another day had passed.
Her body was soaked in sweat and grime. Her head throbbed, her limbs ached, and worst of all—she realized, with unspeakable shame—that she had lost control of her bladder. The stench in the room was unbearable. Her eyes burned with tears she could no longer cry.
Her body felt foreign to her.
She tried to clean herself, crawling weakly to a ragged corner of fabric to wipe away the evidence. I don’t want anyone to see me like this… I can’t let them…
But then—click, click. The unmistakable sound of heels on polished wood. A shadow loomed in the doorway.
“Squeak.”
Kelsey peeked in and recoiled dramatically.
“Oh my god, Sophia. What did you do in here? It reeks! Wait… did you… eww…”
Sophia scrambled to cover the wet floor with her clothes, but it was too late.
Kelsey’s laughter sliced through the air like knives.
“You’ve really hit rock bottom, haven’t you? Let’s make this unforgettable.”
She raised the camera—Sophia’s father’s old relic.
“No…” Sophia reached out, weak and trembling, trying to crawl to her. “Please… don’t…”
The shutter clicked.
And clicked again.
Sophia shut her eyes as the flash lit up her shame.
Kelsey knelt beside her, lifting Sophia’s chin with two manicured fingers.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like taking pictures? I’m just helping you make memories.”
A tremor of fury surged in Sophia’s chest. She summoned every ounce of strength she had left and spat—straight into Kelsey’s smug face.
Kelsey recoiled in disgust.
“Well then.” She stood, wiping her cheek. “You’re stubborn now, but when everyone sees these photos... let’s see how long your pride lasts.”
With that, she turned and left, high heels clicking. This time, she didn’t close the door.
---
Sophia waited.
Then, dragging her broken body across the cold floor, she climbed down the stairs, one slow, agonizing step at a time.
That’s when Uncle Lewis saw her.
“Miss Sophia—heavens!” he cried out, rushing to her side. “What happened to you?! You look… oh my god…”
He caught her in his arms, heartbroken. “I thought you went out with friends… I didn’t know… I didn’t know you were still in the house. This is all my fault!”
The nanny arrived soon after, both of them lifting Sophia gently into the bath.
Warm water.
A bright light overhead.
Familiar hands that cleaned her gently, like she was a child again.
That was all it took.
Sophia broke.
Under the stream of water, she clutched her nanny’s sleeve and sobbed with everything inside her.
“Mom… Dad… I miss you so much…”
The nanny held her close, whispering soothing words. Sophia thought she heard her mother’s voice again.
“Sophia, you’re strong. You’ve survived disaster. Your blessings are coming. Believe in it. Hold on.”
Yes.
She was still alive.
And that was the greatest gift.
---
After the bath, Sophia stood tall, dressed in clean clothes. She wasn’t the same person anymore. The fragile girl from yesterday had died in that room.
She walked into the living room, calm as a still lake.
Herbert was there, casually flipping through documents on the sofa.
He glanced up. “Sophia? When did you come back?”
Sophia stopped.
“Uncle,” she said coldly. “Have you forgotten? You locked me in solitary confinement for three days and nights.”
Herbert tilted his head and smiled faintly. “When you were little, you used to get locked in there for mischief. You always escaped eventually—have you forgotten?”
No.
She hadn’t forgotten.
Back then, he would hide behind the door, laugh with her, and scoop her up with a treat in hand. It was a game. A memory.
But now?
He wasn’t the man from her childhood.
He didn’t remember the difference between discipline and cruelty.
Sophia lowered her lashes, swallowing the words she wanted to say.
There was no need to tell him that she’d be leaving for abroad in seven days.
Just then, Uncle Lewis rushed in, panic etched across his face.
“Sophia! Look—these photos… Is this you?”
He handed her a phone.
Sophia looked.
And her blood ran cold.
