CHAPTER 3: THE HOUSE THAT STOPPED FEELING SAFE
I took Anna upstairs.
She couldn’t walk properly.
Every step was slow.
Careful.
Like she was afraid the floor might punish her.
My mother didn’t follow us.
That was worse.
Silence from her meant planning.
In our bedroom, Anna finally broke down.
Not loudly.
Just exhausted tears.
“I didn’t want to cause problems…” she whispered.
“I just wanted peace.”
I knelt in front of her.
“You’re not the problem,” I said.
For the first time, she believed me.
But at 4:03 AM, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I picked up.
My mother’s voice came through.
Calm.
Perfectly calm.
“You made a mistake,” she said.
“You think protecting her makes you strong. It doesn’t.”
Then she added something colder:
“I already called someone. They will take her in the morning. You can’t stop it.”
The line cut.
Anna froze.
“What did she mean?” she whispered.
I didn’t answer.
Because I already knew.
My mother wasn’t just angry.
She was preparing war.
That night, I stayed awake watching the hallway.
May you like
Waiting.
For the house to move against us.
