All Chapters of Intruder: Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

My fingers glide over the book's cover, my stomach fluttering with excitement. I've always wanted a copy of Pride and Prejudice. Oh, how I love romance.We grew up in Barbados, my sister Keisha and I, watching our parents share the kind of love that felt almost unreal—deep, unwavering, the kind you only read about. They were inseparable, so much so that when Mama passed, Papa followed just three months later. It was the most tragic moment of our lives and not long after, I had to leave everything behind and join Keisha in New York.From my teenage years, I dreamed of love. The grand-sweeping kind. I imagined all the ways my prince charming might find me. The classic accidental collision, a breath-stealing moment of eye contact, reaching for the same book, or stepping into the same taxi at the exact same time, just like Papa and Mama. But never once did my fantasies involve being saved from a dragon's nest.Moreover, we've been through too much to end up in a dragon situation. Life h

Keisha isn't okay. She won't admit it, but I know her too well. The exhaustion in her eyes, the way she forces herself through each day—it's obvious. I hate that this is our reality. That we have to scrape by just to afford the one thing keeping her alive.At least David is back. I was finally able to get her medication. The doctor says she's improving, but only if she stays consistent with her treatment. And that's the problem—consistency costs money. More than we can ever afford on our own.I met David a year ago at a pharmacy. I was at the counter, pleading with the pharmacist, trying to negotiate a way to get Keisha's prescription. She was getting worse, and I was desperate. Then, out of nowhere, he appeared. Paid for a whole month's refill. Arranged for her to see a doctor. Covered her treatments without asking for anything in return.We kept in touch after that. Talked. And then one day, he told me his story. How his wife took the kids and never looked back. How he was tired of

What a disaster.Dismissing Jeffery for the day was a terrible decision, one I regret the second I try brushing my teeth and nearly knock the sink over. My hand slips. My body jerks. The toothbrush clatters into the basin with a sound far louder than it should be.The shirt I pick refuses to cooperate, fabric twisting against stiff fingers. I manage two buttons before the third laughs at me, slipping free again and again. By the time I get it halfway on, I’m sweating like I’ve run a marathon.I slump back into the wheelchair, chest heaving, frustration burning in my gut.Defeat. Again.No. Not defeat. Not today.I rub a hand over my face, force the tightness in my chest to ease. Maybe if I distract myself, it’ll help. A movie. Anything but this silence. Anything but this room that feels more and more like a cage.I scroll through the library of titles, the colours flashing past too quickly to matter. Horror, maybe? Something sharp enough to jolt me out of this fog. I don’t even bother