Chapter 71: Sofia

The guys hug me one by one, each of them holding me so tightly, like they’re afraid to let go. Riley’s the last to pull away, his eyes locked on mine, silently telling me to be strong. I can feel their tension, their worry, and it weighs on me, but I try to give them a brave smile.

“It’ll be okay,” I say softly. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

Their car is parked around the corner, far enough so my parents won’t see them, but close enough for them to be here in seconds if I need them. I step away from them, my hands shaking slightly as I adjust my coat. I feel each of their eyes on me, and for a moment, I don’t want to leave. I want to run back into their arms and tell them I can’t do it, that I’m too scared. But I can’t. I have to do this.

I turn and start walking down the street, the distance to my house feeling longer than it should. Every step feels heavier than the last, my feet dragging along the pavement. I stand there for a moment, frozen as I stare at the front door of the house that used to be my home. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat, and my hands tremble even though I’m trying to steady them. I’ve done everything I can to prepare for this, but nothing could’ve really prepared me for how it feels to be standing here, about to face them again.

I whisper into the tiny mic behind my earring, “I love you guys.”

I know they can hear me, and just knowing that gives me a little bit of strength. I gather the courage and walk up the pathway, my heart racing as I raise my hand to knock. My fist hovers over the door for a second, hesitating. My breath is shallow, and for a moment, I wonder if they’ll even let me in. I knock three times.

Nothing. No answer. The house is so quiet, it feels eerie.

I reach into my coat pocket and pull out my old keys. For a moment, I hesitate, wondering if they’ve changed the locks, if this house has truly become a place where I don’t belong anymore. But when I slide the key into the lock and turn it, it clicks open.

They didn’t change the locks.

A wave of memories hits me the second I step inside. The familiar scent of the place, the sound of the creaky floorboards as I close the door behind me. I can still hear the echo of old arguments, of the threats they used to make, but I push it all down. I can’t afford to think about that now.

I stand in the hallway, my body tense and ready to flee at the slightest sign of danger. It’s too quiet. My parents should be here. I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart.

“I’m in,” I whisper under my breath, knowing the guys can hear me through the mic. It’s the only reassurance I have right now, the only thing keeping me from turning around and running back to them.

But I don’t. I have to see this through.

I barely have time to react when a cold, sharp grip wraps around the back of my neck. My breath catches in my throat, and for a second, I’m frozen in place, fear flooding every part of my body. I don’t even have to look to know who it is.

"You little brat!" my mother hisses into my ear, her nails digging into my skin. "Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’ve put us through? Where were you?! And whose clothes are these?!"

Her grip tightens, and before I can even think of a response, she drags me through the hallway, her fingers biting into my neck painfully. My legs stumble as I try to keep up with her, and I can feel my heart hammering in my chest, terror building with each step.

“I asked you a question!” she snaps, her voice sharp and full of venom, but I can’t find the words. My throat is dry, and panic is surging through me. I glance at the windows, thinking about the guys, knowing they’re watching me. I know they can hear her, too.

She forces me down onto the couch, and I wince as my back hits the cushions. I feel small, helpless. My whole body is trembling, and I can barely keep myself together. I can’t let her see how terrified I am. I need to keep it together. For the guys. For this plan to work.

My mom pulls out her phone, dialing quickly, her face twisted into a hateful sneer as she stares down at me. I can hear the tone in her voice when my father picks up.

"The little brat came back," she says coldly, her eyes never leaving mine. "You better get home now."

She hangs up and tosses the phone aside, a twisted grin spreading across her face as she leans in closer to me, her voice low and dripping with malice.

"Just you wait," she says, her grin widening, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Your father is on his way home. You're in so much trouble."

I feel sick to my stomach, my pulse quickening. My mind races with what’s about to happen. I know what they’re capable of, and the thought of being alone with both of them terrifies me. I know this was my plan. I put it in motion, I thought of it. But right now, being back here, the very same place where I endured years of torture, I regret it. I want to run back to my men, my boyfriends, have them hold me and tell me everything will be okay.

But I also know this is the only way to make my parents stop. I covered for them before when the police came over and that was a big mistake. They need to be behind bars. And that's why I'm here.