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~ KAIA ~

•Six years later•

Six years.

Six whole damn years since I stood in this very kitchen, heart cracked open, baby in arms, and told myself I'll leave tomorrow.

Then tomorrow became next week.

Then next month.

Then never.

Turns out love isn't the only thing that makes you stay. 

Fear does too.

So does shame.

And the very quiet soul crushing voice that whispers, ‘you won't make it out of here alone’. 

I stir the sauce slowly, the kind of slow that hopes time might pause with each circle of the spoon. My back aches. My ribs too. The bruise on my side pulses with a dull heat beneath the waistband of my leggings.

He always knows where to hit.

Where no one will see.

Where silence is expected.

But I stay.

I stay for Hailey.

I stay for the lies I keep whispering to myself at night: just a little longer… just a bit more strength… just not today.

“Mommy?”

Hailey’s voice breaks through the silence, soft and broken.

I turn and freeze.

She stands in the doorway, tears streaking down her cheeks, one hand clutching the side of her face. Her glittering princess gown smudged with soil.

"Baby?" I rush to her, crouching low. My hands tremble as I gently move hers away from her cheek.

Red and swollen.

Faint, but damning in the shape of a hand.

My stomach coils. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

She sniffles as she wipes her nose on her sleeve. “Noah took my sweets. So I took one of his…”

“Is that why you're crying this heavily, sweetie?” I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady. She nods first, then shakes her head, curls bouncing with the motion.

And with trembling lips, she says, “ He cried and said I stole them, and—” her voice breaks into a hiccup, “Daddy hit me here. He said I'm a thief. I didn't mommy.”

My vision goes white. For a moment, I forget how to breathe.

He said he never would.

Not my Hailey.

That was the rule. That was one of the deal I made with the devil to stay this long.

My hands curl into fists before I even realize it. Not at her. Never at her.

And I almost ran to scream at him. 

At the man who promised me our child would be off-limits.

At the coward who couldn’t even hold his temper over sweets.

I pull Hailey into me, her tiny body trembling against my chest. I rock her gently, pressing kisses to her hair, to her temple, to anywhere he didn’t touch.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and it’s not enough.

It’s never enough.

She doesn’t say anything as she continues to sob, melting into me like she’s done a thousand times before. 

My mind races to the bag under the bed—half-packed.

The envelope taped behind the toilet tank—emergency cash.

The prepaid phone in the drawer under my bed—used.

Three years of planning.

Six years of hurting.

And now, the line’s been crossed.

He didn’t just hurt me. He hurt her.

I grip her tighter.

Tomorrow can’t be next week. Tomorrow can’t be next month.

Tomorrow has to be tonight.

Because I know for him to hurt her now, he will do it again.

.

.

.

The wardrobe creaks as I yank it open. Clothes fly into the duffel without thought—mine, Hailey’s, anything that can fit. My hands shake, but I don’t stop. I can’t.

Angry tears burn down my cheeks, hot and relentless.

He touched her.

The drawer groans as I slide it open, revealing the one thing I swore I’d keep safe until the time even though he never really supported me getting it while Hailey was still nursing.

A thin file. Inside: my license. My certificates. My freedom.

I pause for a heartbeat, my fingers trembling over the crisp paper.

The name stares back at me: Kaia T. Merrick, RN. (Registered nurse)

God.

I bled for this.

Fought for it through black eyes and sleepless nights.

Through the emotional pains of teenage pregnancy and being a teenage mother. Through abuse.

Through the threats from the orphanage that they’d cut off my funding if I didn’t “clean up my mess.”

And still—I made it.

Still, I became somebody.

I shove the documents into the bag like they’re gold. Because they are.

I glance at Hailey. Her eyes are wide, scared. Watching me.

She shouldn’t have to see this.

“I’ll get us out of here,” I whisper, my voice fierce even through the fear. “I swear to you, baby girl, I’ll get us out.”

She nods, a little soldier in a princess gown.

I zip the bag and sling it over my shoulder. Then, I grab her hand—just as a brutal knock lands on the door.

“Kaia.”

Robert.

I freeze.

He pounds the door with his fist, causing it to rattle.

“Open this goddamn door before I break it down!”

I don’t move. I barely breathe.

His voice is low and feral. The voice that always comes before apologies.

God. He's going to hit me again.

I turn to the nightstand. The key glints where I left it—the one to his car. The same car he gifted me after the first time he beat me bloody and forced himself on me when I refused to let him have me after he brought Bethany in. He forced himself on me that night and the car was just his way of keeping my mouth shut.

It worked.

That key is mine now.

“Open this damn door, Kaia! I can hear your heartbeat! You think you can leave me? You think anyone else will want you?!”

My heart is in my throat as I scoop up the key. My fingers find the window lock next. Last floor. We’ve practiced this.

I lift Hailey first.

“Hold the pipe, baby. Just like we did in the drills.”

She nods, her lips trembling. She slides down carefully, dirt smudging her dress, her feet hitting the grass with a thud.

I drop the duffel next.

“Kaia! I'm going to fucking kill you!” The hinges groan. The door cracks slightly. He’s breaking through.

I hurry to the bed and pull out the little box before grabbing the prepaid smartphone Ashby got me. Then, I rush to the window and swing my leg out, gripping the sill like a lifeline. My aching body screams in protest, but I drop—catching the edge of the balcony below before I land hard beside Hailey.

The wind rushes out of me and pain whacks through me. But we’re down.

“Run, Hailey. Run.”

She doesn’t ask questions. She bolts.

I grab the bag and sprint after her. Gravel bites my bare feet. Behind us, wood shatters.

He’s through.

I grab Hailey's hand, forcing all my energy into my legs as we sprint to the car.

“I'm going to kill you, Kaia.” He screams from the window.

I didn't stop as I shove the key in and yank the door open. I throw the duffel bag in and Hailey climbs in.

Then, I hurry to the driver's side and hop in before shutting the door, making sure the window is rolled up.

I shove the key in.

The engine roars to life just as Robert bursts out onto the porch, his face twisted with rage, barefoot, shirtless, wild.

“KAIA!” He screams.

But I don't wait.

I know Robert. He's really going to kill me if I land in his clutches again.