Chapter 4: packed and promised

The sky was gray when Emilia returned home.

She hadn’t slept much, wandering the quiet backstreets of the city until exhaustion finally dragged her onto a park bench at dawn. The chill air clung to her skin, and her stomach ached from going all night without food, but something heavier sat in her chest—something she couldn’t name.

She climbed the familiar steps of their worn-out apartment and hesitated before opening the door. Her fingers curled around the knob.

No matter how bad things were, this was still home.

At least, it used to be.

When she pushed open the door, the apartment was too quiet. No shouting. No TV. No sound of Alissa humming in the bedroom or Vanessa clattering dishes in the kitchen. Just silence and the smell of something burnt from breakfast.

She stepped inside slowly, the door creaking shut behind her.

Alissa appeared from the hallway, her eyes wide. “You’re back.”

“Yeah,” Emilia said. “Guess I am.”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment.

Then Alissa rushed forward and threw her arms around her stepsister.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” she whispered.

“I didn’t either,” Emilia murmured, hugging her back tightly. “But where else would I go?”

Alissa pulled away, wiping her eyes quickly. “She’s been in a mood all morning. Something’s off.”

“Vanessa?”

Alissa nodded. “She called a meeting. Said we all need to talk.”

Emilia rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. She’s going to blame me for breathing again.”

But when they sat down in the living room a few minutes later, Emilia realized it was worse than that.

Vanessa stood in front of them like a politician delivering bad news. Her arms were crossed, her expression unreadable, like she was trying hard not to smile.

Mark sat slumped on the armrest of the couch, head down, silent.

Vanessa cleared her throat. “First, let me make this clear—what I’m about to say is final. There will be no arguments.”

That never meant anything good.

“Alissa,” she began, turning toward her daughter, “you’ll be resuming school tomorrow. Your tuition has been covered.”

Alissa’s eyes widened. “Wait—really?”

“Yes,” Vanessa said with a tight nod. “We’ve handled it. You can go back and finish the term.”

“That’s amazing!” Alissa said, glancing at Emilia. “How? Did something—?”

“And Emilia,” Vanessa interrupted, her voice hardening as she turned to her stepdaughter, “you’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

Emilia blinked. “What?”

“You’ll be staying with your aunt Theresa. She’s expecting you.”

Emilia’s heart dropped. “I don’t have an Aunt Theresa.”

Vanessa waved a hand dismissively. “She’s your mother’s cousin or something. It doesn’t matter. What matters is you’ll be helping out around her place for a while. A fresh start.”

Emilia stood slowly. “You’re sending me away?”

“It’s not forever,” Vanessa said, her tone clipped. “Just until things settle down here.”

“What things?” Emilia snapped. “You kicked me out last night, and now I’m being banished like some burden you can’t wait to get rid of!”

Vanessa’s eyes narrowed. “Lower your voice.”

“No,” Emilia said, her voice shaking. “I’m not leaving. You think you can just toss me out like some broken toy?”

Alissa looked between them, confused. “Why are you doing this?”

Vanessa straightened. “Because we have limited resources. And tough choices have to be made. Your father and I agreed this is best for everyone.”

Mark flinched when the spotlight fell on him. He looked up slowly, eyes dull.

“Dad,” Emilia whispered. “You’re letting her do this?”

He swallowed hard. “It’s... just for a little while, Em. Maybe some space will help.”

Emilia stared at him like he’d slapped her.

“Space?” she echoed. “You’re throwing me away too?”

“It’s not like that,” he mumbled. “It’s... complicated.”

“No, it’s not,” Emilia said, trembling. “You chose her. Again.”

Vanessa clapped her hands once, sharply. “Enough. You have until tonight to pack. You’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”

The girls were dismissed without another word.

Back in their shared bedroom, Emilia collapsed onto her bed, face down. Her fists clenched the sheets.

Alissa sat beside her, stunned. “She didn’t even ask. She just decided.”

Emilia turned her face toward her stepsister, eyes red. “She’s been waiting for an excuse to get rid of me. I’m not her daughter. I never was.”

“I don’t understand,” Alissa whispered. “Why now?”

“I don’t know,” Emilia lied.

But a sick feeling bloomed in her stomach. Something didn’t sit right. Aunt Theresa didn’t exist. At least, not one who'd ever been mentioned before. And the way Vanessa spoke—calm, smug, final—felt like something was already set in motion.

“She’s hiding something,” Emilia muttered.

“I’ll talk to her,” Alissa said quickly. “I’ll tell her I won’t go back to school if you’re not here. Maybe she’ll—”

“No,” Emilia said, sitting up. “She won’t change her mind. She’s decided. And you deserve your education, Lisa. Don’t let her ruin that for you.”

Alissa looked down, her lips pressed tight.

That night, Emilia packed in silence. She folded her clothes with slow, robotic movements, stuffing them into the small duffel bag she’d used when her mother was still alive and they used to take weekend trips outside the city. The fabric smelled like dust and lost memories.

Alissa sat on the bed, watching helplessly.

“Where do you think they’re sending you?” she whispered.

Emilia paused. “I don’t know.”

But in her heart, she was beginning to guess.

Somewhere far from here.

Somewhere she might never return from.

In the living room, Mark lingered while Vanessa stood in the kitchen reheating leftovers.

He finally spoke. “That was cold.”

Vanessa didn’t turn. “It was necessary.”

“She’s not livestock, Vanessa. She’s a girl. A child.”

“She’s not my child,” she snapped. “And this family isn’t big enough for all of us.”

Mark’s voice was low. “How could you offer her like that? To him?”

Vanessa turned, spoon in hand. “Because we were out of options. Because you didn’t have the guts to come up with a plan. And because someone had to sacrifice something.”

“She’s not something. She’s my daughter.”

“No,” Vanessa said coldly. “She’s your past.

And I just secured your daughter’s future. You should be thanking me.”

Mark stared at her, disgusted.

“She’ll never forgive us,” he said.

Vanessa smirked. “She doesn’t have to.”

She turned back to the stove, humming softly.