Chapter 9
Willow
Another night passes without sleep. When I finally drift off, it's never truly restful—it's a trap. Memories pull me under, vivid and cruel. I'm back there again, watching my dad fade away, counting his breaths until there are none left to count. His hand is in mine, and the room is too quiet.
Then it twists.
His face changes, the softness gone, his voice no longer gentle.
In the dream, he looks at me like I’m something regrettable, something wrong, and he tells me I was the biggest mistake he ever made.
I’m the reason he's dying. The words cut deeper than the loss itself, because some broken part of my brain wants to believe them.
Since he died, I usually lie in the dark, staring at the ceiling, exhausted but too afraid to close my eyes—because sleep is where I lose him all over—and where I lose myself too.
I roll onto my side, body heavy with exhaustion, and glance down at Sassy curled up next to me. Her sparkling blue eyes flicker over me like she's reading my soul, and I let out a quiet sigh. My fingers tremble slightly as I stroke her soft fur, seeking comfort in her.
Last night, I caught fragments of Elijah and Rose yelling somewhere in the house, their voices angry and loud. I didn't even try to make sense of it—not that I cared enough. It's too much drama for me.
For a fleeting moment, I wondered if they would even notice if I let the grief swallow me whole. That thought turned into me finding a sharp object and cutting my wrists. Even that pain was numb to me. Everything is.
A loud knock rattles my door, but I don't move—River won't be back until later, and I can't be bothered with the other two who live here. The knock comes again, louder this time.
“Willow, open the door, right now.” Her shrill voice makes me roll my eyes, and I stay put. She's the last person I want anywhere near me.
Minutes crawl by before the door swings open, and she strolls in like her ass is on fire. She stops at the end of my bed, eyes darting between me and Sassy, her expression a mix of disbelief and disgust.
“What on earth is that thing doing in my house?” she sneers, pointing at my cat.
I level her with a flat, unimpressed stare as I sit up, Sassy shifting behind me, a low warning growl rumbling from her chest.
“I ask myself that same question every single day since I've been here about you.”
She clicks her tongue. “You think you're so funny, don't you?”
I lift one shoulder in a careless shrug, refusing to give her the reaction she wants. “No, just being honest. My dad always told me never to lie.”
The mention of him makes her expression harden. She draws closer, her fingers curling around the foot of the bed.
“Do you know what I think?”
“I couldn't give a shit.”
I push the covers off and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The room tilts for a second as I stand, knees trembling beneath my weight, eyes burning. I force myself upright, pride stiffening my spine when all my body wants to do is curl into a ball and forget the world.
“Get out of my room.”
I cross the space to the door and wrap my fingers around the handle, knuckles whitening as I hold it open, a silent challenge. I don't want her here. I don't want her anywhere near me.
Every time I look at her, it's like staring into a warped mirror, and it makes my stomach turn to think I’m her daughter. How could anyone like her exist in the same family as me—stuck up, shallow, and utterly insufferable.
She smirks.
“It's a shame you didn't grow up with me. You’d probably have better manners and actually take care of yourself. Lucky for you, I’m such a good mother—I even found you a job. Once you get paid, I can take you out and do something about… this.” Her hand gestures up and down, dismissively, sweeping over my hair and face.
“Are you actually serious right now?” I grit my teeth, my blood boiling.
Her hand reaches out, fingers hooking around a loose strand of my hair. I bat her hand away without looking at her. She laughs like I’m the one being dramatic.
“Don't be like that. I’m just trying to make you look pretty. My friend Olivia—have I told you about her? Anyway, she has a son. Plays football, like River. Very handsome. He could look after you, give me some pretty grandbabies. We just need to fix you up a little.”
I stare at her, the words sliding past my ears without really landing. It's like my brain can't believe the shit that comes out of her mouth.
“You could be very pretty, Willow,” she continues, lips pursed in mock thoughtfulness. “The one good thing I ever gave you was your looks. Thank goodness you didn't get your father's. Honestly, I don't even know what I saw in him.”
My vision goes black, and rage fills me; it's overpowering, as if I'm watching myself from outside my body, and I hit her.
The sound cracks through the room. My palm stings from the force of it, and I don't regret it for a second. Her head snaps to the side, a red mark already blooming on her cheek. She brings her hand up, eyes wide in shock.
I don't stay to hear whatever poison she's about to spit back or return the favour.
As I turn to leave, Sassy bounds after me, her collar jingling with each step.
At the front door, I quickly slip on a pair of shoes—any that I can find, without a second thought or regard for appearance.
Dressed in my Spider-Man pyjama shorts and a tank top, I feel indifferent to how I look, and I just need to leave.
I swipe at the tears streaming down my cheeks, more filled with anger than anything else, as I fumble with the key to unlock the door.
I don't even realise she followed me until her hand clamps around my arm.
Her nails dig in hard, forcing me to turn back to her. Pain flares up in my arm as it tightens.
“You ungrateful little bitch,” she snarls. “You should be thanking me. I gave you a roof over your head, and this is how you repay me?” Her grip tightens more. “Get the hell out of my house. You don't have a home here.”
Peering down, blood wells where her sharp nails have broken skin, right next to the cuts on my wrist from last night—still angry and red.
Something in me goes cold.
Pushing her away, she stumbles back, off balance in her ridiculous heels and goes down hard. Her head hits the side of the wall.
“With pleasure,” I mutter, voice broken.
I scoop Sassy into my arms, step outside, and slam the door behind me. I start walking with no destination in mind, just forward.
Anywhere is better than that fucking house.