Aria's POV
The alarm clock screamed at 4:30 AM, and I wanted to throw it across the room.
Instead, I dragged myself out of bed in my freezing attic room and pulled on my coffee shop uniform. My eighteenth birthday. Eighteen whole years of existing, and what did I have to show for it? A room with a leaking ceiling, three part-time jobs, and a family that treated me like their personal servant.
Happy birthday to me.
I crept down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky third step. If I woke up my stepmother Victoria, she'd find some new horrible chore for me to do. The kitchen was dark and cold. I made myself a piece of toast—just one, because Celeste would throw a fit if I used "too much" bread—and headed out into the early morning darkness.
The walk to Sunrise Coffee Shop took twenty minutes. My breath came out in foggy puffs. October mornings were brutal, and my jacket had holes in both elbows. But at least at the coffee shop, my boss Mrs. Chen was nice to me. She was the only person who remembered my birthday.
"Happy birthday, sweetie!" Mrs. Chen called out when I walked through the door. She handed me a blueberry muffin with a candle stuck in it. "Make a wish!"
I closed my eyes. I wish for things to get better. I blew out the candle.
"What did you wish for?" Mrs. Chen asked with a warm smile.
"If I tell you, it won't come true," I said, forcing myself to smile back.
The morning rush hit hard. I made lattes, cleaned tables, and smiled at customers even when they were rude. My feet ached. My back hurt. But I kept going because I needed this job. I needed all three of my jobs if I was ever going to save enough money to escape my family's house.
At noon, Mrs. Chen let me go early. "It's your birthday! Go do something fun."
Fun. Right. I had to go home and cook dinner for five people who couldn't care less about me.
When I pushed open the door to my family's house, Celeste was sprawling on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and wrinkled her nose.
"Ugh, you smell like coffee," she said. "It's disgusting."
I bit my tongue. Celeste was twenty, two years older than me, and she'd never worked a day in her life. She wore designer clothes and got a new car for her last birthday. Meanwhile, I wore the same three outfits over and over.
"Where's the grocery money I left on the counter?" Victoria's sharp voice cut through the living room. She appeared from the hallway, arms crossed, her expression cold.
"I—I used it to buy groceries," I stammered. "For tonight's dinner."
"All of it?" Victoria's eyes narrowed. "That was eighty dollars, Aria."
"The roast you wanted was expensive, and you said to get the good vegetables—"
"Excuses." Victoria waved her hand dismissively. "You probably pocketed half of it. You're just like your mother—a liar and a thief."
My chest tightened. I wanted to scream that I'd never stolen anything in my life, that I bought exactly what she told me to buy, that she was the liar. But what was the point? She'd never believe me. My father never stood up for me. No one ever did.
"I need you to clean all the bathrooms before dinner," Victoria continued. "And iron your father's shirts. And make sure the roast is perfect—we're having guests tonight."
"Guests?" My heart sank. "But I thought—"
"You thought what?" Celeste smirked from the couch. "That we'd celebrate your birthday? Please. The world doesn't revolve around you."
I wanted to cry, but I refused to give them the satisfaction. I went upstairs, cleaned three bathrooms until my hands were raw, ironed twelve shirts, and then started cooking dinner. My phone buzzed while I was chopping vegetables.
Ryan:Can't wait to see you tonight! I have a surprise for you.
My heart lifted. Ryan. My boyfriend of three years. He was the one good thing in my life. He understood me. He loved me. He'd promised that once we both turned eighteen, we'd get our own apartment and leave this awful house behind.
Me:I can't wait either! What's the surprise?
Ryan:You'll see. Just come to your family's house at 7. Trust me, it'll be worth it.
Wait. My family's house? That was weird. But maybe Ryan had planned something with my family? Maybe they were actually going to celebrate my birthday?
The thought made me feel warm inside. Maybe I'd been too harsh. Maybe they did care about me, just a little bit.
At 6:45 PM, I ran up to my attic room and changed into my best dress. It wasn't fancy—I'd bought it at a thrift store two years ago—but it was pretty. Dark blue with little flowers on it. I brushed my hair and put on a tiny bit of lip gloss.
Before heading back downstairs, I stepped out onto my tiny balcony. The orange stray cat I'd been feeding for months was waiting there, like he always was.
"Hey, buddy," I whispered, scratching behind his ears. He purred and rubbed against my hand. "It's my birthday today. I'm eighteen. Things are going to get better now, I can feel it."
The cat meowed softly, his golden eyes watching me like he understood every word.
I filled his food bowl and checked on my windowsill plants—five small pots with flowers and herbs I'd rescued from the trash. They were the only things in the world that were truly mine.
"Wish me luck," I told the cat.
At exactly 7 PM, I walked back downstairs and headed to the main family house next door. My father owned two properties side by side. The big, beautiful house where he lived with Victoria and Celeste. And the small, run-down house where I lived alone in the attic. He said it was better this way. Less crowded.
Really, it just meant they didn't have to see me unless they needed me to work.
When I reached the front door, I could hear voices inside. Music playing. My hand trembled as I turned the doorknob.
The door swung open.
The house was decorated with streamers and balloons. There was a banner hanging across the living room. My heart soared for exactly two seconds—until I read what the banner said.
CONGRATULATIONS CELESTE & RYAN!
My brain stopped working.
Standing in the center of the room, holding hands, were Celeste and Ryan. My stepsister. My boyfriend.
My father was there, smiling. Victoria was there, smiling. Neighbors I recognized were there, all holding glasses of champagne.
Everyone turned to look at me.
Ryan's face didn't show guilt or shame. He looked... annoyed that I'd arrived.
Celeste's smile was pure poison. "Oh good, you're here! We have news!"
My legs felt like jelly. "What... what is this?"
Ryan stepped forward, still holding Celeste's hand. "Aria, we need to talk. I think it's time we were honest with each other."
"Honest?" My voice came out as a whisper.
"I'm breaking up with you," Ryan said flatly. "Celeste and I are together now. We have been for six months."
Six months. Six months while he was telling me he loved me. Six months while he was making plans for our future. Six months of lies.
The room started spinning.
"But that's not all!" Victoria's voice rang out cheerfully, like she was announcing something wonderful. She walked forward holding a stack of papers. "Aria, we need to discuss something serious. There's been some money missing from the family business account. Evidence points to you."
"What?" I couldn't breathe. "I never—I don't even have access to—"
"We have bank statements," my father said, finally speaking. He wouldn't look at me. "Your savings account shows deposits that match the missing amounts."
"That's impossible!" Tears burned my eyes. "That's my money from my jobs!"
"Sign these papers," Victoria thrust them at me. "Give up any claim to your mother's inheritance, and we won't press charges. We won't call the police."
"You're framing me," I whispered. "You're all framing me."
Celeste laughed. "Oh please. Don't be so dramatic."
Ryan shook his head, looking at me with disgust. "I can't believe I wasted three years on you. Did you really think someone like me could love someone like you?"
The papers shook in my hands. Through my tears, I could barely read them. Something about giving up all rights to my mother's estate. All claims to the family business. Everything.
"Sign them, Aria," Victoria said coldly. "Or we call the police right now. All these witnesses will testify they saw you acting suspicious. Stealing. Lying."
I looked around the room. Every single person stared at me like I was garbage. Like I was nothing.
My father turned his back.
My hand trembling, tears streaming down my face, I signed the papers.
The room erupted in applause, like I'd just done something wonderful.
I dropped the pen and ran. Out the door, into the rain that had started falling. I ran and ran and ran until my legs gave out and I found myself on a bridge, staring down at the dark water below.
Everything was gone. My family, my boyfriend, my money, my mother's inheritance, my dignity. Everything.
I had nothing left. Nothing at all.
Why keep going?
Then I heard it. A familiar meow.
I turned around.
The orange cat stood there in the rain, soaking wet, staring at me with those strange golden eyes.
And then—I swear I'm not making this up—the cat began to glow.
Soft at first, then brighter and brighter, until I had to shield my eyes. The light was silver, like moonlight, and it grew so intense I couldn't see anything else.
When the light faded, the cat was gone.
In its place stood a young man.
He had silver eyes, orange-tinted hair, and he was looking right at me.
"Aria," he said, his voice urgent and desperate. "We need to run. Right now."
I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
Because behind him, the air was ripping open like someone had taken a knife to reality itself.
And through that tear, something dark and terrible was reaching through with claws like knives, reaching straight for me.