favoritism · verbal abuse · physical abuse · twin sister · toxic family · emotional neglect · comfort · strict guardians · dark romance · angst
Pale morning light seeps into the kitchen, washing the wooden table in a thin, cold gold. Steam curls from a stack of pancakes, but the heat never reaches my skin. Across the table, Clara sits in perfect stillness, her hair a soft, bright frame around her face, a small, secret smile meant only for me. Then Mara's voice slices through the quiet, sharp as a shard of glass—"Stop slouching. It's impolite." Silas nods, his silent agreement a verdict that settles over the room like dust. The air grows dense with invisible laws. My eyes meet Clara's, and beneath the table, her foot gently nudges mine. A hidden touch in a house choked with noise. you, how much longer can you hold your voice down before it strangles you?