Chapter 3: Homecoming and Shadows

Home feels safe, but threats still linger.

Sophia

The familiar creaking of the door pulls me out of my thoughts as I push it open. I abandon my heels in the foyer, hang my purse on the hook, and rest my back against the door.

What a day.

The tantalizing scent of sauce wafts through the air, mixing with the clashing of cutlery and utensils.

Home.

Forcing my aching body to move, I walk toward the kitchen, passing our tiny vintage living room.

“I’m ho—”

I don’t get to finish.

“Surprise!!!”

My mum and younger brother stand there with wide smiles and even wider arms. A simple banner hangs behind them, slightly crooked, with Congratulations written in bold marker.

“You guys…” I breathe, warmth spreading through my chest.

“We got your text,” Mum says, as if that explains everything. “Come here, my child.”

I don’t hesitate. I fall into her arms, into the familiar softness that always makes everything feel manageable.

“Congratulations on getting the job, Sophie.”

That’s when it truly sinks in.

I hug her tighter, fighting the tears threatening to spill.

“I’m so proud of you. I knew they would hire you,” she whispers.

I smile faintly, remembering how she said the same thing this morning before I left for the interview.

“I just knew it.”

I don’t know how long I stay there, but Miles’ dramatic sigh pulls us apart.

“Hey, where’s my hug?”

I laugh and pull him in. He pretends to resist.

“Alright, don’t get emotional now,” he mutters, though his arms tighten briefly around me.

I pinch his cheek just to annoy him. He glares. I laugh.

“That’s enough. Come, Sophia,” Mum calls from the kitchen.

I finally take in the decorations properly. Nothing extravagant. Just the banner, two balloons, and several dishes spread across the table.

And in the center—

A cupcake with a single candle.

My heart swells painfully.

It doesn’t look like much. But it means everything.

“Hey… you okay?” Miles asks quietly, studying my face.

“Yeah,” I say, smiling brighter. “I’m good. Thank you.”

We share a look that says more than words ever could.

Miles may be younger, barely eighteen, but he’s taller than me now. Broader. Protective in ways he doesn’t even realize.

“Alright,” he claps his hands. “Take a seat and let's get started on this feast. Hey—that rhymes.”

And just like that, he’s back to being himself.

We sit down and eat. Spaghetti and meatballs, cinnamon rolls, fried rice, and chicken sauce—my favorites. Mum even made the sauce extra spicy, the way I like it.

As we eat, I tell them about the interview. I keep it simple. Professional. Clean.

Miles complains about school. Mum listens, smiling softly.

Everything feels just right—but then I remember Dad.

His absence sits at the table like a silent guest.

As if Mum senses my thoughts, she asks gently, “You went to visit him today?”

…

My mind drifts back to bright hospital lights bouncing off white walls. The steady beeping of machines. The sharp smell of antiseptic.

The hospital.

He lies exactly the way he always does. Still.

A bandage wraps around his head. His hands rest on the blanket, limp and unmoving.

I sit beside him earlier today, wrapping my fingers around his hand.

“Dad,” I whisper.

My voice sounds small in the quiet room.

“Guess what? I got the job.”

I wait. Nothing.

“It pays well,” I continue. “Mum won’t have to overwork anymore, and Miles can focus on school now.”

My throat tightens.

“You always said I’d work somewhere big one day,” I murmur. “Guess you were right.”

The ventilator hisses softly.

“I’m going to fix this,” I promise. “I’ll fix everything. You just… wake up soon, okay?”

He doesn’t move. He never does.

I blink back to the present and clear my throat.

“I did visit him,” I answer. “The doctor says his condition is stable. Nothing major has changed.”

I try to sound neutral. I fail.

“I miss him,” I admit quietly.

“He would be proud of you,” Mum says, reaching for my hand across the table.

I nod and focus on my food, pretending not to notice how tired she looks. She seems older than she should be. Smaller. Fragile. And I hate that I know why.

“On the bright side,” Miles says, trying to lift the mood, “now that you’re working for that big company, we won’t struggle with hospital bills anymore, and Mum can quit that laundry job.”

With that, I relax slightly. Mum pats Miles as if to say she doesn’t mind the work, but I can see the tension in her shoulders fall at just that thought.

“Yes,” I add. “And you can focus on college without worrying about loans.”

He beams.

Am I a bad person for letting them hope?

No. Hope is the only thing holding us together.

Later, I go to my room and get ready for bed. My phone buzzes with a notification—details of my employment. Working hours. Regulations. Salary.

My eyes widen at the amount I’ll get every month.

Five figures.

It almost doesn’t feel real.

But I know it comes with a price. Then I remember Adrian Vale.

Even thinking his name makes me tense. I remember the call earlier today after I got the job.

…

“Did you get the job?” he asks the moment I answer.

“Yes,” I reply stiffly.

“Good. Your time has begun.”

“Stay away from my family,” I whisper. “I’m doing what you asked.”

He chuckles softly.

“As long as you cooperate. If you don’t… your father won’t be the only one in a hospital bed.”

The line goes dead.

…

Now, lying in the dark, I make myself a promise.

I will protect the people I love. Even if it destroys me.