Sienna

The house felt different that morning.

It wasn’t the kind of quiet that came with peace — it was the kind that made your chest hurt, the kind that filled the air after something breaks.

I didn’t sleep. Not a minute.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Mom’s face — the shock, the scream, the look of betrayal that carved itself into me. I wished I could erase it. I wished I could go back and stop myself from walking into his room.

I stayed in bed, hugging my pillow, my body heavy with shame and fear. My hair was still messy from the night before. I...