When Shadows Fall in Love

Back home, the volume was the same. Noise bouncing off walls that never echoed her name, yet fully screamed her disgrace, which she was now immune to.

Dinner passed with no arguments, but also no words. Her parents spoke to her like a checkbox, never chatting with her. It was as if she was the used maid of the house.

"Did you do the practice test?"

"Yes."

"Good."

End of discussion. Its always like this? When will they value me? 

She quietly went and sat in the corner of the table with her grandmother afterward, sharing peeled oranges in silence. Her grandmother touched her hand briefly, carefully. Too close to the wrist.

Her heart stopped for a second. And she turned towards her grandma so fast that she was almost about to crack her neck.

But the old woman said nothing.

Just passed her another orange slice and continued watching her prayer beads rotate like clock hands.

That night, she didn't write in her journal but just looked at her scrapbooks; the exact the same which her parents called trash.

The reason behind the distance from the only family I had. The reason for the only joy I ever knew. The spark that gave life to my dream of becoming an architect. The only reason I ever believed in myself.

She just stared at the ceiling, thoughts loud. It was silent except for the rain drops and the thunder roaring, adding a bit comfort to her heavy heart. All that over-thinking made her even more dizzy, but she tried not to close her eyes, like she was battling the impulse to cause herself pain.

A jarring noise tore through her sleep.

BANG! Bang! Bang! Bang!

She turned left, and her breath caught in her throat. The once pale blue window which she used to watch was gone, replaced by pieces of glass all over her clean carpet. She looked from the shattered glass at the ground only to see 2 dark-jeaned legs walking closer slowly. She watched it move closer helplessly stuck firmly to her bed, her elbows pushing her upwards but her body was immobile, at a loss for what to do or how to react. She lowered her head till her jet black hairs covered her face, waiting for the danger to swallow her whole. The figure came more near and nearer, stuck or its hand and gently lifted her chin. "Look up darling" he said with a voice as deep as the ocean, but it came with such calmness like though he was the person who just single-handily destroyed a quarter of her beautiful and clean room. Her head rose with quiet defiance, only to be met by the cold shimmer of silver-grey with a piercing stare.

Oh dear God, this troubles a bit too much.

The man smirked.

She gasped, as she got up horrified, the tears locked in her eyes now flooded all dropped on her fair check bones. She bolted for the door in a heartbeat, but it was escape until the stranger's arm snaked around her waist, yanking her firmly back into his hold. Her body went crashing into his stone like muscles, before she fell. He held her wrist tightly, not painfully — but like he wouldn't let go even if the world shattered around them. He softly pulled to her feet. She was about to shout and try to escape but he simply cast her a glance and said "Noisemakers will be silenced" Her breath was uneven as he led her downstairs, holding her wrist with a unique softness that soothed her heavy heart but scared her out of her skin.

The light was on. Her parents were still awake, sitting at the dining table with books, papers, and their sons' test results spread across it like trophies.

"I think he can easily qualify for national merit," her father was saying. "And he's is just nine and solving tenth-grade chemistry... they're prodigies."

Her mother smiled with tired pride. "Unlike—"

Then they saw him. The man in black. Their daughter behind him, her eyes leaking with tears and her cheeks gleaming with teardrops, spread like marmalade across jade skin.

They stood up at once, fear crashing into their expressions. Her father's voice cracked. "W-Who are you?! What are you doing in my house?"

The man didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Just walked forward calmly and placed a black suitcase on the table with a heavy click.

"I want her," he said simply, nodding at the girl. "In exchange, I'll give you ten million."

Dead silence followed which was until the girl screamed, "No! Mum, dad please. No, no, I d-don't want to g-go with him. Pl-please!"

Her mother gasped. Her father's jaw dropped. "Ten... million?"

He nodded once. With piercing light eyes, he studied her father's face, analysing each expression with unnerving ease.

They didn't even look at her. Not once. Just stared at the money like it was a miracle.

Her mother was the first to break the silence. "Is this legal?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "You didn't ask if it's moral. You asked if it's legal."

Her father chuckled nervously. "What do you need her for?"

"That's none of your concern."

Her heart shattered like glass. "You're thinking about this? You're selling me?! Dad, you can't!" 

Her mother barely looked at her. "Can't you see how much this could help your brothers—and us? Or does none of that matter to you?"

That was it.

It crossed her lines.

Her lungs exploded with everything she'd held in for years.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "What kind of parents give away their daughter to some stranger?! No—what am I even saying? You were never parents to me. You never loved me. Not even once." Her breath came in shudders now. "I wasn't even allowed to speak in front of guests. I was your punching bag when you were angry, your maid when you were tired, your cook when my brothers were hungry. And what did I get? You never called me pretty. Never told me I was smart. Not once did you say I was enough."

Tears blurred her eyes. "You gave them hugs and kisses and praise—and what did I get? Cold toast. Backhanded comments. You gave them all the attention but always hushed me up. You call me a mistake-the biggest one of your lives! I TRIED SO HARD TO BE THE DAUGHTER—ONLY TO BE SOLD OFF LIKE GROCERIES?" , she coughed with tears storming down like rain, "I-I a-am i-important t-too, I am a human y-yet you m-made me d-do this…"

Her voice cracked as she grabbed her sleeve and rolled it up fast—revealing the raw, red, half-healed cuts.

Her father flinched. Her mother turned pale.

"I CUT MYSELF TO FEEL SOMETHING OTHER THAN HATRED AND ANGER! AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE!"

The room fell still.

Then came a soft sound—her grandmother's gasp.

She had entered unnoticed and now stood frozen, clutching her chest. Her prayer beads slipped from her hands and scattered across the floor.

"Grandma!" she shrieked, rushing to her. Her grandmother's face was pale, her breathing shallow. Her hand gripped her chest tight.

"She's having a panic attack!" the girl cried. "SOMEBODY DO SOMETHING!"

Her parents froze. The mafia man was the first to move. He picked up the old woman gently and carried her to his car without hesitation. "Hospital. Now."

A few hours later…

At the hospital, everything was white and cold and clinical. Her grandmother was wheeled away. She and the man sat outside the emergency room.

While the girl was in a crying mess, her parents stood awkwardly near the door. Her mother scrolled her phone. Her father muttered something about work.

It had been quite long since she was bent over and crying, so the man walked closer to her and he bent down on one knee and caressed her back. She looked up expecting her parents to be consoling her only to see a complete stranger alongside her and her parents gone. "You—what are you doing? Why are you still here? Stay away from me!" Her palms twitched in her lap, her voice splintering like glass mid-sentence. He held her, and she allowed it.

She.

Broke.

Down.

She cried harder than she ever had in her life. The kind of crying that made your whole body convulse and leaves you wondering why you are actually crying. She sobbed into his arms until breathing hurt.

Because for the first time, someone did something.

The mafia man had reached out to her. His voice was barely a whisper.

"Let it out," he said. "You've been holding this in too long."

She looked up at him, broken and raw, but something in his silver-grey eyes wasn't pity—it was care.

When the nurse came out with the bill, her hands shook as she pulled out her wallet. But before she could even try, the man already had his black card out.

"I'll take care of it."

She looked around. Her lips trembled. "They left, didn't they?

He didn't answer. He didn't need to.

She sniffled them said, "They won't take care of her. I know it."

Her voice cracked. "Please... p-please take her with us. She's all I have."

The man looked at her, long and deep. For a moment, something flickered behind those steel eyes—something fragile.

"Alright," he said. "She comes with us."

A few hours later…

Her grandmother was discharged a few hours later, stable but weak, with medicine and rest orders. She held her grandma gently as she led her to his car, which she would have never if her grandma wasn't that hurt.

And when they pulled into the circular driveway of a huge villa—tall gates, armed guards, marble steps—the girl looked up at the towering house, still unstable.

It didn't feel like home. But at least, for once, it didn't feel like hell.

The man stepped out first, then opened the door for her and her grandmother.

"Welcome," he said quietly.