Chapter 7

This Was My Survival

Alvara

I woke up before anyone else.

The room was still dark, the curtains barely letting in the early morning light, but sleep had already abandoned me.

Slowly, carefully, I pushed myself up from the bed, my heart already pounding before I even looked down.

Instinctively, I checked the bedsheets again.

No blood.

Relief washed over me, but it was shallow and fleeting. The fear didn’t leave. It never did. It sat in my chest like a weight, heavy and unmoving, reminding me that nothing here was ever truly safe.

I pressed a hand against my stomach, breathing slowly, deliberately, as though any sudden movement might shatter what little peace I had.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

I didn’t know who I was trying to convince, myself or the life growing inside me.

My body felt weak, drained, like it no longer fully belonged to me. But my mind was strangely alert, sharp, as if I were standing guard over something precious. Like a soldier who knew danger was near but refused to abandon her post.

I swung my legs off the bed and stood up.

I started packing slowly, carefully, choosing each item as though it carried weight beyond its physical form. I didn’t pack much, only the essentials.

Hospital reports.

Antenatal documents.

A few pieces of clothing.

And the small amount of money I had been secretly saving, folding and hiding bit by bit like a quiet rebellion.

As I packed, I hesitated.

I looked around the room, at the expensive furniture, the spotless surfaces, the space that was supposed to be mine. And suddenly, it struck me how little of myself actually belonged here.

Nothing held my memories.

Nothing carried my warmth.

Nothing felt like home.

I folded the hospital reports carefully and hid them inside my clothes, burying them where no careless hand could find them.

There was a knock on the door.

I stiffened.

The door opened, and Mrs. Whitmore walked in.

“Good morning,” she said gently. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Oh,” I replied softly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat. I’ll eat when I get home.”

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she walked toward me and began helping me pack, folding clothes neatly and placing them into the suitcase.

I watched her closely, confusion tightening in my chest.

“Mrs. Seraphina is coming,” she finally said. “So you must eat here before leaving.”

“Oh,” I said again, unsure of what else to say.

“You have to rest,” she continued. “Make sure you rest very well in your mother’s house without worrying about anything.”

“I will,” I said, forcing a small smile.

Just the thought of staying with my family made my chest ache with longing.

She straightened, glanced at the door, then suddenly squeezed something into my hand.

“Call me whenever you feel like,” she whispered. “Or if anything happens. I’ll always be here.”

Then she left hurriedly, as if she’d said too much.

I opened my palm.

Cash.

And a contact card.

I didn’t know what to make of it. Gratitude battled with suspicion inside me. Kindness in this house always came with conditions. I wasn’t foolish enough to trust it completely.

I was still trying to find the perfect place to hide it when my door opened again.

This time, it was Adrian.

“What are you doing here?” I shouted, shock giving way to anger.

“This is my house,” he said coldly as he walked toward me. “I can be anywhere I want. Don’t ever question me again.”

Before I could respond, he opened my suitcase and tipped it over, spilling my clothes onto the floor. My heart nearly stopped, but thankfully, the hospital reports stayed hidden within the folds.

“You’re not moving permanently,” he said, scanning the room. “Understand that.”

I clenched my fists.

“This bed rest nonsense?” he continued. “It was my decision. I was tired of seeing your ugly face. I needed space to bring my girlfriend in.”

The words hit me like ice.

“You can go to hell with her,” I screamed.

Smack!.

The sound echoed through the room.

Pain exploded across my cheek as I staggered back.

“Shut up, you whore,” Adrian thundered. “Didn’t I tell you I have a lot in store for you? Go recharge your energy, you’ll need it. You and the bastard you’re carrying are liabilities. You will never be a priority. Don’t get too comfortable.”

He turned and walked away.

I stood there, holding my cheek, my body trembling, refusing to cry.

One stubborn tear escaped anyway.

I wiped it away quickly, reached for my phone, and stopped the recording.

Thank God he didn’t notice.

Silently, I repacked the clothes he had scattered, my hands shaking but steady enough to finish.

Breakfast was worse.

I sat under Mrs. Seraphina’s watchful eyes, every bite feeling like an obligation instead of nourishment.

She claimed she was there to ensure I left “successfully.” The irony almost made me laugh.

“You have to eat for the baby, Alvara,” she said sweetly. “You’re eating for two now.”

“I’m not really hungry,” I replied.

“Can you stop inconveniencing others for your selfish reason?” Adrian snapped, standing abruptly. “Follow instructions and stop acting important.”

He stormed out.

“Don’t mind him,” Mrs. Seraphina said calmly. “He’s stressed. I’ll warn him not to talk to you like that again.”

I considered telling her about the slap.

I didn’t.

It would change nothing.

“Hello?” she said into her phone.

“Yes… my daughter-in-law is very delicate.”

“Yes, we’re being generous. Family comes first.”

I stared at my plate.

Everything they did was for their image. I knew that much.

I was locking my door when Adrian appeared again, walking toward me until my back hit the wood.

“You will not embarrass me,” he said quietly. “You will not speak about this marriage to anyone. Remember, you’re still under my name. Don’t forget where you came from.”

He stepped back.

I held my chest, gasping for air.

If I wanted to keep my child safe, I had to keep myself safe first.

John had already loaded my bags by the time I stepped out

The house stood behind me, immaculate, cold, lifeless.

A house that almost killed my child.

I felt relieved.

Guilt.

Fear.

I entered the car without looking back.

The city changed slowly as we drove. The farther we went, the lighter I felt.

I dialed my mother’s number.

“I’m coming home, Mom,” I said softly. “Just to rest.”

This was the first time in weeks I felt human again.

My mother opened the door and froze.

Then she pulled me into her arms, crying.

I cried with her.

“You look so thin,” she whispered later. “So pale.”

“I’m pregnant,” I joked weakly.

Leo laughed. “You still look perfect.”

I smiled.

Home felt warm. Loud. Safe.

“ I have missed you so much Leo, how is school?” I asked Leo.

“ Studies are fine, but you know I can never miss you right? I have better things to do” he said.

“ You're a fool” I said, throwing the couch pillows at him laughing.

“ Yessss, big sis is back, this house has been so boring without you” he said laughing while he carried my bags to my room.

My mom stood up immediately, she has been crying quietly since I arrived.

“ What will you eat my daughter, just tell me whatever you want to eat, I will make it very fast” she said, whipping off the tears on her face.

I don't want to get her angry by saying nothing, cooking is one thing she loves doing with all her soul, and cooking for us is the happiest thing for her to do.

“ My favorite mom, I want to eat my favorite, ” I told her.

“ Alright go freshen up, Leo will help you unpack so you will settle down I will be done very very soon ”. She said hurrying to the kitchen.

My mother,she can never change.

I smiled.

Home felt warm. Loud. Safe.

I sat in my room after Leo helped me to unpack.

I laid everything out, the hospital reports , notes , diary , and the recordings. I brought out my phone, I saved the recordings and captured the hospital reports too, documenting all together.

I wasn't doing this for revenge.

This was survival.