Elara never knew the warmth of a father's arms. He had walked away before she took her first breath, leaving her mother alone and afraid, pregnant with a life she didn't ask for. Her mother had whispered her own sorrow to the empty room: "He doesn't want me… or you."
When Elara came into the world, her mother's eyes shone with both love and terror. She named her daughter with trembling hands, promising to keep her safe. But fate was cruel. By the time Elara was two, her mother had fallen ill, her fragile body giving out under the weight of grief, poverty, and exhaustion. Her last words were a soft plea: "Be strong, my child. One day, someone… someone will care for you."
Elara didn't understand death then, not really. She only knew the absence—the hollow echo where her mother's voice used to be.
Her uncle took her in after that. He was a man of sharp words and cruel habits. Where her mother had been gentle, he was harsh. Where her mother had whispered encouragement, he shouted commands. Elara learned quickly: a misstep meant punishment, a sigh of protest meant pain. She wasn't allowed to cry, she wasn't allowed to hope, and she certainly wasn't allowed to dream.
Every day was a lesson in survival. She hid bruises under long sleeves, swallowed hunger in silence, and learned to anticipate anger before it struck. She didn't know love existed—only survival, only fear, only the cold, unyielding presence of her uncle.
Her uncle's daughter, Marissa, treated her as a rival, a reminder of her father's betrayal and her mother's weakness. Every glance from her cousin carried disdain, every word a cutting remark. Even at seven, Elara learned to walk quietly past her cousin's jeers, eyes down, heart shielded.
By the time she was ten, Elara had forgotten the sound of kindness. She didn't know what it felt like to be wanted, to be cherished. She only knew she had to be invisible to survive.
And yet… somewhere deep in her chest, buried under years of neglect and abuse, a tiny spark of longing remained. A longing for a world she had never seen, for a family that might protect her, for love she had never felt. But she didn't dare to imagine it—not yet.
If you like this, Chapter 2 can expand on her teenage years under her uncle's abuse, showing the increasing brutality, her clever ways to avoid punishment, and her growing desire to escape. Then Chapter 3 can be her actual escape, setting the stage for her eventual meeting with the siblings.