Torn Between Destinies

Chapter 16: Chapter Sixteen

The night clung to me like a second skin.

I moved with the trees, careful not to snap a branch or rustle too many leaves. I kept my distance from the farmhouse, circling it like a wary predator, watching for movement through the grimy windows. From a low branch, I saw her—my mother—carrying a bucket of water inside. I saw the little girl—Kiani—dragging a broom twice her size across the floor.

And I saw him.

John.

Thick-necked. Red-eyed. Always pacing. Always growling under his breath. The kind of man whose silence was louder than his yelling. A bully forged from anger and bad choices.

I hated him.

But I couldn’t afford hate. Not yet. I needed a plan. I needed to reach my mother, speak to her—somehow—without setting off alarm bells.

So I waited. I watched.

And that’s when I made my mistake.

I stepped too close to the back fence. Just a few feet. Enough to see more clearly through the half-open back door. I wanted to hear her voice. Just for a moment.

A twig snapped under my boot.

I froze.

The door slammed open.

"What the hell?"

I ducked low, heart slamming against my ribs. Through a crack in the bushes, I saw John step out, holding a lantern in one hand. His other hand went to his waistband, where a long hunting knife hung from a sheath.

"Who’s out there?" he barked into the darkness.

I stayed low. Still. Silent.

He walked off the porch and stomped toward the trees.

"Damn coyotes," he muttered. "Or thieves."

He scanned the woods like he expected eyes to shine back at him.

And for a second, I thought he saw mine.

But then he turned, spat into the dirt, and trudged back toward the house.

"Gotta protect what’s mine," he grumbled as he stepped inside. "Gotta protect my property."

The door slammed shut behind him.

Back behind the trees, I sank to the cold ground, hands shaking.

He’d almost seen me.

If he had... I didn’t know what he would’ve done. But judging from the way he handled Aira’s arm the night before, I doubted he’d go easy. And I didn’t want to find out how far his cruelty went when threatened.

I had to be smarter.

The next day, I stayed far from the house. I circled wide, watching from a distance. Aira came out to hang clothes on the line. Kiani picked stones from the garden bed, her tiny shoulders hunched.

John watched from the porch, a rifle resting across his lap.

My blood ran cold.

I slipped further into the woods and pressed my back against a tree. He was on edge.

Maybe he’d seen something in the shadows. Maybe he’d sensed me in some human way. Or maybe abusers just knew when something—*someone*—was slipping from their control.

I wanted to rip that rifle from his hands.

But I wasn’t here for war. Not yet.

I was here for them.

For my family.

That night, a storm rolled in.

Rain lashed the trees. Thunder cracked the sky in two. It was the kind of storm that silenced animals, swallowed footsteps, and masked cries.

I took my chance.

Moving fast through the cover of wind and rain, I crept up to the edge of the barn. From there, I could see the side window of the house—Kiani’s room. The small glow of a candle flickered inside.

I waited until the wind howled again, then slipped through a loose board on the barn’s side. The inside smelled of damp hay and rusted tools. I kept low and moved toward the side that faced the house.

Peering through the slats, I could just make out the girl sitting on her bed, clutching a worn stuffed animal.

She looked so alone.

And then... her eyes drifted toward the barn.

Toward me.

We stared at each other across the space, storm between us.

I raised my hand.

She didn’t run. She didn’t cry.

She tilted her head.

I pressed a finger to my lips.

She blinked slowly... and nodded.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

But behind her, the door to her room creaked open.

She snapped around. The candle dimmed.

John’s voice boomed over the storm.

"You still awake?"

I ducked further into the shadows.

"No, Daddy," I heard Kiani whisper.

"Better not be. You need sleep for tomorrow. I’ve got plenty of chores for you."

"Yes, sir."

The door shut again.

I held my breath until the wind rattled the barn doors loud enough to cover any other sounds.

She was smart. Brave. Just like Mama.

I had to get them out.

Soon.

Later, I crept back to the edge of the woods. My coat was soaked, but I barely noticed. I kept going over the moment Kiani saw me. The way she hadn’t screamed. Hadn’t told him.

She was my sister.

And she trusted me—somehow.

But I wasn’t the only one thinking.

John had lit a second lantern on the porch. A third light burned in the kitchen window. And this time, when he came out, he wasn’t muttering.

He was talking to someone.

I crouched and listened.

"...saw something last night," he said. "Might be someone sneaking around."

A voice I didn’t recognize answered. "What, a thief?"

"Or worse," John growled. "Could be one of Aira’s old ghosts come back to haunt her."

The other man laughed. "You’re spooked."

"I’m not spooked. I’m ready. Got my rifle loaded. If I catch someone snooping, they’re not getting a warning."

My fists clenched.

He wasn’t bluffing.

I needed to move fast. I had to talk to Mama—tonight, if I could. I had to make her see that she wasn’t alone. That I was here. That we could run.

That we had to.

I stayed in the barn again until just before dawn. The storm had passed, but the clouds still hung low. Mist crawled over the grass.

I waited until I saw Aira slip outside alone to fetch firewood.

That was my chance.

I moved fast, circling behind the shed, and approached from the east where the trees grew thickest. I kept low. Slow.

She didn’t hear me until I whispered, "Mama."

She dropped the logs and spun around.

Her eyes widened in pure, open shock. "Luciana?"

I grabbed her hands. "Shh. I don’t have much time."

She looked like she wanted to cry. Or faint. Or scream.

"Is it really you?" she whispered.

"It’s me."

"But how—how did you—?"

"I’ll explain everything. But I need to get you and Kiani out of here. He’s getting worse. He’s paranoid. He’s armed."

She glanced toward the house. "He’s always armed."

"I have a way. I met someone—he can get us safe transport. But you have to trust me."

Tears spilled from her eyes. "I do. I just... I didn’t think I’d ever see you again."

I squeezed her hands. "You don’t have to stay. Not one more day."

Behind us, the back door creaked open.

Aira’s face drained of color. "Go. Now."

I nodded and slipped back into the trees, breath caught in my throat.

And I heard John’s voice, sharp and close.

"You drop the wood?"

"...Yes."

"I don’t like people sneakin’ around my land. I see anyone else here, they’re gonna regret it."

His voice was like poison in the air.

But mine would be the wind that swept it all away.