Chapter 3
The hallway is cool and smells faintly of lemon polish and old books. Lily’s bare feet make no sound against the hardwood floor as she retreats from the kitchen. The shouting behind her dims to a dull, angry roar, punctuated by the sharp clatter of metal hitting the floor—likely the knife Elena had finally dropped. Lily doesn’t look back. She slips into the narrow linen closet at the end of the hall, pulling the louvered door shut until it clicks softly. It is her safe haven, a tight, dark space where the world’s sharp edges cannot reach her.
Sitting on the stacked wool blankets, Lily pulls her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her white t-shirt. Her ponytail catches on a wooden slat, pulling slightly, but she doesn't fix it. Through the slats, she watches the strip of warm light from the hallway cut across the dark floorboards. She listens to the cadence of her parents' voices rising and falling. They are not talking about love, or about her future; they are calculating losses. Who gave up more? Who trapped whom? These are the questions that define her childhood, a ledger of resentment kept in real-time.
Footsteps approach, heavy and deliberate. Marcus walks down the hall, his suit jacket discarded or left hanging on a chair. He stops near the linen closet, breathing heavily. Lily holds her breath, praying he won't open the door. Sometimes, when the anger spills over, doors are treated like obstacles to be breached. But Marcus just leans his head against the wall opposite her hiding spot. She hears a low, ragged sigh escape his lips—a sound that isn't quite human, more like the groaning of timber under too much weight.
"I can't keep doing this," Marcus mutters to the empty hallway, his voice breaking slightly. It is a confession not meant for ears, but Lily drinks it in.
A moment later, Elena’s lighter, quicker footsteps join him. She doesn't yell this time; her voice is sharp, brittle, coated in ice. "Then don't. Walk out, Marcus. Go back to your office, go to a hotel, just stop pretending you care about what happens when the front door closes."
May you like
"You know I can't leave," Marcus replies bitterly. "The audit starts Monday. If we separate now, everything we own gets frozen. Every asset is tied up in your family’s name."
Lily closes her eyes, pressing her palms against her ears to block out the financial calculations. Even their misery has a price tag. She thinks of the white plate she left half-washed in the sink, wondering if it will still be there tomorrow, or if her mother will smash it just to prove a point about broken things.
