The morning was colder than usual. Willow woke up on the floor, her cheek pressed against the cold tiles. She blinked at the ceiling, her breath fogging in the cold air.
"So I'm not dead?" she asked herself, voice low and dry, then let out a weak chuckle. A small smile tugged at her lips as she got to her feet and stretched her aching limbs.
She made her way to the kitchen, her steps sluggish. Her body still felt heavy, but she needed to eat before taking her medication. She made something light, just enough to get the pills down. After eating and taking her drugs, she moved to the bathroom for a hot shower, hoping it would bring some warmth back into her numb body.
Later, wrapped in a sweater, she settled on the couch in the living room with a book in hand. But after rereading the same page three times, she dropped it on the coffee table with a sigh. Her eyes drifted to her phone. She scrolled endlessly, jumping from one app to the next, until the boredom became unbearable. Then she just sat still, unmoving, for what felt like hours.
It hit her—how quiet her life had become.
No friends.
No family.
No lover.
Just her.
"It's been just me, myself, and I," Willow joked to herself, though the chuckle that followed was hollow.
For four years, her life had been nothing more than sketching… maybe working… but even her work is mostly about sketching. That was all she had.
She pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the drawer beside the couch and lit one. The smoke curled lazily in the air as she exhaled. She smoked two sticks before finally deciding to get out of the house.
She changed into a peach short flare dress, ran her fingers through her hair, and left the apartment without a destination. She just couldn't sit in that silence anymore. Now that she had resigned from her job, the emptiness felt louder.
Willow drove with no real direction, letting the road decide for her.
Eventually, she found herself parked outside the Larkspur house.
Her eyes stared at it through the windshield for a long time, memories crawling up like ghosts. None of them were good. Still, this was the only place she could go if she wanted to see people—talk to someone—anyone. As much as she hated it, she needed the noise.
With a deep breath, she stepped out of the car and walked toward the house.
"Willow?" Rachael's voice came from the kitchen, laced with shock. She stepped out, her apron still tied as she was preparing dinner. "This is the first time in four years you've come home."
Not that Rachael was some warm, loving figure. She was more of a storybook villain—the kind of stepmother fairy tales warned you about.
"Why are you here?" the words slipped from Rachael's mouth before she could stop herself.
"Am I not welcome in my father's house?" Willow asked calmly.
The thud of hurried steps echoed from the stairs. Silas, her father, appeared, his face already twisted in annoyance.
"What do you want here? Do you think you can come for the money you gave me? I don't have it anymore," Silas barked.
Willow didn't flinch.
"As expected of you, Mr. Larkspur," she replied, dryly. "Not surprised the money is finished"
Even if this man were locked inside a vault full of gold, his life wouldn't change a bit. With his gambling habits… and the two liabilities he kept at home. They all could've been successful by now. She thought but decide not cause trouble from her side
"Willow?" another voice interrupted the tension.
Maple stood in the doorway, her arms crossed. Twenty-six and strikingly beautiful—she could almost pass for Willow's twin. But where Willow's strength was quiet and inward, Maple's was loud and destructive.
"Why are you here?" Maple asked, her tone more accusation than curiosity.
"I'm here for my last supper," Willow said, walking past her and taking a seat at the table.
"I can see you're still very arrogant," Maple muttered in irritation, settling into her chair.
"And you're still unreliable as ever," Willow shot back without looking at her. "Is this how you treat your helper? If not for me, you'd still be behind bars for stealing."
"I didn't steal!" Maple shouted, her voice rising.
"Oh, I forgot—you still have that bad luck of people lying against you." Willow smiled with that signature smirk that always seemed to set Maple off.
"Willow, if you're here to cause trouble, you better leave now," Rachael said as she joined them at the table, her fake calm unraveling.
"I'm here to eat. Tell your daughter not to talk to me, thank you," Willow said, already dishing food onto her plate.
Maple and Rachael began whispering insults under their breath, preparing their next comeback, but Silas slammed his hand on the table.
"Enough! We are all one family. We can talk without fighting," he said, playing peacemaker—though no one really took him seriously.
"I won't fight… if she knows how to be quiet," Maple muttered.
"Willow, since you're back home now…" Silas began, trying to sound fatherly. "I've been wanting to talk to you. This might be the only chance."
"Okay," Willow replied slowly, knowing this would only lead to another mess.
"Your sister has been suffering a lot. She's decided to turn a new leaf, start working. I also want to start providing better for this family."
From the look on Maple and Rachael's faces, it was obvious they were hearing this for the first time.
"So what work has she decided to do?" Willow asked.
"Just give us money to start a small store. Maple, Rachael, and I will take turns managing it."
Willow smiled, setting her spoon down.
"How much do you need?"
"One million dollars. And if you have more, that's even better," Silas said, grinning with confidence as if he were asking for pocket change.
"What gave you the assurance I have one million dollars?" Willow asked, still smiling faintly.
"Okay, five hundred thousand then," Silas said quickly, trying to bargain it down like he was in a marketplace.
Willow's smile faded. "The problem is… if I had that kind of money, why would I give it to you? One—a thief." She pointed at Maple. "Two—a gambler." She pointed at Silas. "Three—their defender." Her spoon pointed at Rachael now.
"Who are you calling a gambler, Willow?"
"Who are you calling a thief?" Maple and Silas said at once, their voices rising.
Willow ignored them and picked up her spoon.
"Even if I decide to give you the money… why would I give it to someone who doesn't respect me?" She looked directly at Maple. "And someone who doesn't like me?" Her eyes fell on Rachael.
"And you, Mr. Larkspur… have you ever earned a hundred thousand dollars in your life? And you want me to give you five hundred?"
"It's not like you don't have the money, Willow. If you don't spend it on your family, who else will you spend it on?" Maple snapped.
"How did you guys spend the money you got four years ago?" Willow asked.
"That was four years ago," Silas said defensively. "This is four years later."
"Okay… I don't have a dime to give you anyway," Willow said coolly.
"I always knew you were nothing but a useless child," Silas exploded. "You can just die so I'll know I have no daughter as worthless as you."
Willow paused. The air stilled.
"Die?" she repeated. "Do you understand what you just said?"
"Yes! Just die so I'll know I have no sister. Better than having one who can't even help me," Maple added, venom dripping from her tone.
"I should have killed you when you killed your mother at birth… or better yet, given you up for adoption. Then I wouldn't have to see this day." Silas's voice shook with rage.
Rachael tried to play peacekeeper. "Can you all calm down? Don't make her angry." She turned to Willow with a rehearsed smile. "Don't mind your father, he's just upset. We really do want to change. Just give us whatever you can afford."
Willow's voice was quiet now. "I can't afford anything. If you want money, better work for it."
"You bastard daughter. Since you killed my wife, I knew you were a jinx. But as your father, I decided to keep you and take care of you… and this is how you repay me?" Silas shouted.
His words were like blades, but Willow had been cut so many times by this family, she barely bled anymore.
She just felt sad that she has no one to rely on this time of her life,everywhere felt lonely
And Silas He took care of her? Like when? Willow thought but decided against talking about it,it's useless reminding someone of what they already know
She looked at each of them—three faces staring at her not with love, but with expectation, disappointment, and greed. Her chest ached—not from the illness, but from the emptiness
He took care of her? Like when? Willow thought but decided against talking about it,it's useless reminding someone of what they already know
"I came because I felt vulnerable," she said softly, more to herself than to them. "But it seems…"
She stood and picked up her bag.
"Mr. Larkspur, don't worry. Soon, I won't be in your life anymore," she said as she walked toward the door.
"Better be out of my life, you useless daughter!" Silas shouted behind her.
Willow didn't look back.
As she got into her car and drove away, she told herself one thing:
This will be their last encounter on Earth.