The Langford mansion's living room was drowned in a heavy silence, its chandeliers glowing faintly, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. The air felt suffocating, thick with tension, as if even the walls held their breath.
Aira stood in the very center of the room, small and fragile against the grand expanse. Her eyes were hollow, glazed over with a deadness that no one seemed to notice. Her face was drained of all color, her lips cracked and pale, her hands trembling faintly by her sides. The bandage on her arm peeked from beneath her sleeve, its edges stained faintly with dried blood. Bruises—dark, ugly marks—decorated her once soft skin like cruel ink stains, each one a reminder of the nightmare she had endured.
Alec, standing a step away from her, broke the silence first. His voice was low but heavy, the kind that carried restrained anger."She needs rest… please, stop this." His words trembled not with fear, but with frustration, his hand unconsciously reaching toward Aira as if to shield her.
Thomas's eyes snapped to him, fierce and sharp, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths."Don't try to defend her!" he barked, his finger stabbing the air in Alec's direction before swinging toward Aira. "Look at the mess she's created again!" His voice cracked like a whip, laced with disgust.
Aira didn't move. She only blinked, slow and empty.
Then Thomas raised his hand. This time it wasn't hesitation, it wasn't anger restrained—it was fury. His palm cut through the air before slamming across Aira's face.
The sound echoed in the cavernous room—sharp, cruel, final.
Her head tilted slightly with the impact, a faint red bloom spreading across her cheek. Yet she didn't flinch, didn't cry, didn't even lift her hand to touch the burning skin. She stood there as though her body belonged to someone else, her eyes fixed on the floor, her soul already gone.
"Thomas, stop!" Lily screamed, rushing forward, her hands half-extended but stopping midway, afraid of what might follow. Her voice cracked with desperation. "She's injured!"
But Thomas didn't falter. He turned to Lily, his jaw tight, eyes wild. His finger stabbed toward Aira again like a blade."She's the reason behind all this shame! Kidnapping? Drama during the engagement? Always—always making trouble!" His chest heaved, spit flying with his words.
From the sofa, Sana leaned back casually, a mocking smile tugging at her lips. Her voice dripped with venom."Oh, please. Maybe she planned her own kidnapping—for attention."
Aira's eyes flickered for a split second. Not pain. Not anger. Just emptiness swallowing her whole.
"Sana!" Mira's voice cut in, low but firm, her brows knitting in disapproval. "That's enough."
Rayen crossed his arms, his face twisted in irritation. "We always said she was bad news." His tone was dismissive, as though Aira were nothing more than a mistake sitting in front of them.
Aira remained still, her silence louder than any defense. No tears fell. Not this time. The slap hadn't broken her—it couldn't. She had already been broken long before this moment.
Upstairs, Elena lay unconscious, untouched by the storm unraveling below.
Alec's fists clenched tightly at his sides, the veins in his hands visible, his jaw locked so hard it looked painful. His eyes burned with something raw and protective. His voice came out like fire."None of you even care what happened to her down there… do you? She was tortured! She bled! She shielded your daughter with her own body!" His words cracked the silence like thunder.
Mrs. Langford's lips curled slightly, her eyes narrowing with doubt. "You don't even know if that's true," she said coldly. "We only have her word."
"I believe her," Mr. Langford interrupted quietly, his tone steady but firm. His gaze lingered on Aira, soft but pained. "Because I saw her. I saw her eyes. No one fakes that kind of brokenness."
Aira's chest rose and fell slowly, each breath shallow. Her thoughts swirled, quiet and sharp.
Ah… so this is what it takes to be left alone. To feel nothing.
Her gaze drifted over each face—disgust, blame, indifference. A family that once claimed to love her. But they never did. Not really. She had always been convenient. Easy to blame. Easy to break.
Her eyes, once bright, now looked dead.
And then she turned her head slightly toward Alec. For the briefest of moments, he saw it—a flicker. Pain. Betrayal. A scream that never left her lips. And then… it was gone. A blankness reclaimed her face.
"Aira—" Alec's voice cracked as he called after her.
"I'm fine. Don't worry." Her reply was soft, distant, without turning toward him. A weak smile touched her lips, fragile and fake, before she walked toward the stairs.
Each step she took was heavy, dragging her down rather than lifting her upward. As she reached the hallway, she passed a mirror.
She stopped.
The girl in the reflection didn't look like her. Pale. Bruised. Eyes empty. She didn't recognize her anymore. That girl—the real Aira—died in the basement.
That Night
The mansion was quiet, but it wasn't a peaceful quiet. It was the kind that pressed against the walls, heavy and suffocating, like the house itself carried the weight of unspoken words. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall was the only sound that dared to exist, each second dragging on like a reminder of the earlier storm.
Upstairs, Aira sat at the edge of her bed. Her back was straight but tense, her feet flat on the floor, hands loosely resting on her lap. Her gaze was locked on the far wall as though it held the answers to questions she no longer asked. Her eyes were blank—empty pools that reflected no light from the small lamp glowing faintly on the nightstand. Shadows stretched across her room, the curtains half-drawn, the moonlight slipping in to trace her figure in silver outlines.
Her body was still, but her hands betrayed her. They trembled slightly, a quiet quiver she couldn't control. The silence around her was so thick it seemed to echo, until—
A soft creak. The door opened slowly.
Mira stepped inside, careful, as though entering sacred ground she had no right to touch. In her hands, she held a small tray with a steaming bowl of soup, the faint aroma drifting into the room. She hesitated before speaking, her voice hushed, almost uncertain."Aira… I brought some soup for you."
Aira didn't turn. Her gaze never shifted from the wall. Her voice, when it came, was flat, drained of life."I'm not hungry."
Mira lingered by the doorway, her fingers tightening around the tray as though it anchored her. She took a step closer, her voice soft but insistent."Please, eat a little. I know they've been unfair. I'm… I'm sorry."
For the first time, Aira's head turned slightly, just enough for her profile to catch the dim light. Her eyes met Mira's, but they weren't warm—they were sharp, hollow, cutting deeper than any words could. Her tone was quiet, yet it carried the weight of years of silence."You didn't say anything when they blamed me."
The tray trembled faintly in Mira's hands. She lowered her gaze, shame crawling across her face, her voice stumbling as it broke."I—I didn't know what to say."
Aira's lips curled into something that wasn't a smile. More a shadow of one. She shook her head slowly, the movement heavy, deliberate."Then don't say anything now. You don't have the right to say anything to me anymore…"
Her words were soft, but final—like a door closing.
Mira's throat tightened. For a moment, she stood frozen in the middle of the room, wanting to argue, to apologize, to beg—but the look in Aira's eyes stopped her. Those weren't the eyes of the sister she knew. They were colder, distant, unreachable.
Without another word, Mira turned and walked out, her steps small and hesitant. The door closed gently behind her, but the silence that followed was heavier than before.
Downstairs
In the living room, the tension hadn't lifted. Mr. Langford sat in one of the leather armchairs, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together. His eyes were fixed on the floor, the lines on his face deeper than usual, carved with guilt and fatigue.
Beside him, Alec sat forward, his own fists clenched tight, resting on his thighs. His knuckles were white, his jaw locked.
Mr. Langford finally spoke, his voice low, heavy with something he rarely showed—regret."She's changed," he admitted, almost to himself. "And we let it happen."
Alec's head snapped toward him, his voice steady but burning with restrained anger."I won't let anyone hurt her again."
Mr. Langford turned, meeting Alec's eyes. For a long moment, he just looked at him, as though weighing the boy in front of him, searching for sincerity. Then his voice softened, low but firm."Then protect her. Protect her like she's your own blood, Alec. Because right now… she has no one else."
The words lingered in the air, heavy, undeniable.
Alec's gaze drifted upward, toward the staircase that led to her room. His heart felt like a stone in his chest, his thoughts sharp, restless. He could still see her blank expression, her hollow eyes.
Aira… I'll fix this. Even if you've stopped believing in everyone, I won't stop believing in you.
His thoughts darkened, bitter.Protect her from what now…? You all failed to protect her. You failed to protect her innocence. Her smile. Her childhood. You failed to protect everything that made her… her.
He closed his eyes briefly, his chest rising with a deep, controlled breath. Then he opened them again, sharper, more determined.
But I won't fail. Not again.
Aira Room
She stands alone by the window, the world outside alive, but her world... long gone. Her eyes are blank, her hands tremble slightly, and her heart? Just a quiet echo. My lips part, but no words come out - just the storm in her thoughts.
All I ever wanted... was a little warmth. A soft voice. A safe space to exist. I didn't want gifts or grand gestures - I just wanted someone to hold me when I cried... someone to tell me I mattered. Was that too much to ask from the people who brought me into this world?
I had every right to be loved. I had every right to feel protected. I was your daughter... your sister. You were supposed to be my home - but instead, you turned me into a stranger in my own family. Instead of love, you gave me silence. Instead of protection, you gave me fear. Instead of comfort, you gave me scars. Nightmares that still wake me in the middle of the night - the kind that don't fade when the sun rises.
You didn't raise me... you all ruined me. Slowly, without even realizing it. You stole the little light I had left. You didn't see the cracks... or maybe you did, and chose to ignore them.
But now now you'll face what you've created.
Because when innocence breaks, when a child's soul dies screaming in silence... what's left behind is no longer the same girl. You didn't just hurt me you buried me.
What's left is a cold shadow of who I used to be. A dead-eyed, emotionless shell. A voice that carries no warmth. A heart that feels nothing. You didn't just fail me... you created a monster. And no amount of guilt will bring back the girl who once looked at you with hope in her eyes.
She's gone. Forever.
All she ever wanted was a little warmth... a gentle word, a hug, a reason to believe she belonged. Was that too much to ask from the people who brought her into this world? She had every right to be loved by her family every right to feel safe, wanted, and protected. But instead of love, you gave her cold shoulders. Instead of safety, you gave her pain. Instead of comfort, you fed her nightmares. You didn't raise her, you broke her piece by piece, day by day.
And now, you'll face what you've created.
Because when innocence dies... when a child who once smiled through pain finally gives up... what's left is not a daughter, not a sister, not a human you can hurt anymore. What's left is a monster you created soul too numb to feel, a face too tired to cry, eyes that no longer shine, and a voice colder than winter. You didn't just fail to love her - you buried her. a
And now... she's not coming back.
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