(Ethan’s POV)

    Olivia looked up in surprise as I sat down beside her, holding an apple and the fruit knife. I began peeling the apple with careful precision, the de moving in smooth strokes.

    “Were you close to my mother?” she asked softly.

    I nodded, not looking up from the apple. “Very close. Ask me anything you want to know.”

    Her voice carried a hint of uncertainty. “Cynthia Mooncrest told me my mother escaped from an arranged mating with the Mooncrest family. Is that true?”

    I paused, considering my words carefully. “Your mother was indeed fleeing an arranged mating. On her way out, she encountered danger. I was the one who helped her escape.”

    Olivia’s shoulders seemed to rx slightly. I sneered inwardly.

    Cara hated seeing her Mom high, but had grown used to the sight over the years. But despite the fact, she had often reminded me that she wasn’t all bad, since despite her Mom wasting away – she would never hit or yell at her…

    At times I was jealous, considering that we both had it bad, but hers seemed that little bit more bearablepared to my own situation.

    At least Cara had someone who deep down, actually cared for her behind the shell of her addiction, unlike someone who would greet her at the door with whiskey-soaked breath and a clenched fist most days out of the week…

    “Try not to overthink things tonight,” Cara nudged me lightly, her voice softer now, like she knew exactly where my head was going. “We did the right thing, Margot. We won’t be stuck here forever – at least we are trying to get out, right?”

    I nodded, but my stomach twisted itself up into knots.

    I wasn’t even thinking about the experiment right now. I was thinking about the rusted trailer that was waiting for me, the man inside it, and whether he’d be passed out or looking for something to hit.

    “Yeah,” I muttered. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

    Cara gave me a knowing look. “You will, unless I wake up rich and famous overnight and I’m outta here by sunrise.”

    I forced augh, watching as she turned on her heel and disappeared toward her trailer, her silhouette swallowed by the dimming light. “You know I’d never leave you behind though right? You’re my girl!” She called back over her shoulder, as I watched her disappear further and further down the road.

    The moment she was gone, the weight of reality settled down on my shoulders like an asteroid sent to crush the earth.

    I inhaled deeply, forcing my feet to move despite my brain screaming not to.

    The path crunched beneath my worn in sneakers, the sound too loud in the eerie quiet of the trailer park as I feared waking everyone up in the deste space.

    Most people had already retreated inside for the night, the glow of muted televisions flickering behind thin curtains from those who had them. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. A baby cried. A man yelled.

    It was all too familiar, too ‘normal’ that I hated it even more…

    Then I eventually saw it — our trailer.

    It slumped against the fading sky like a forgotten relic, the paint peeling, the metal rusting. A crushed beer cany near the front steps, the first sign that my father was already home.

    The second sign was the faint glow of the television leaking through the window, illuminating the living room in a sickly, blue hue.

    I hesitated at the door on my approach, listening in for a moment.

    Silence.

    Not good.

    Silence meant he was either passed out or waiting…

    Bracing myself, I slowly pushed the door open, the hinges groaning in protest and revealing my position.

    The stench hit me first — sour alcohol, stale sweat, and something burnt.

    I stepped inside, careful to keep my footsteps light.

    The living room was a mess, but that was nothing new. Empty bottles cluttered around on the floor, an overflowing ashtray sat on the coffee table, and the TV buzzed on a static-filled channel.

    Then I saw him.

    My father sat slumped in his recliner, his beer-stained tank top stretched over his gut, one hand gripping a half-empty bottle, the other hanging loosely over the armrest. His eyes were closed, mouth slightly open.

    Asleep.

    Relief flooded me so fast that my knees almost buckled.

    I moved quickly, heading toward my room at the far end of the trailer, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards on my way.

    If I could just make it inside, lock the door, maybe tonight wouldn’t end in more bruises to add to my growing collection…

    But as I reached for the handle, his voice cut through the air, thick and slurred.

    “Where the hell you been, girl?”

    My stomach clenched and heaved at the tone.

    I turned slowly, my fingers still curled around the doorknob. He was blinking up at me now, his face contorted in a drunken haze.

    “Library with Cara,” I said carefully.

    He scoffed at me, spit flying out, before dragging a hand down his face before taking another swig from the bottle. “Library,” he mimicked in a squeaky voice, shaking his head. “Like that’s gonna do you any good in this damn town – reading shit fucking stories.”

    I said nothing. That was always the safest option.

    He shifted in his chair, narrowing his bloodshot eyes at me. “You sneakin’ around in here now, girl? You think I don’t notice when youe homete? When you creep by me without sayin’ a word?”

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    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!