022

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022
Words That Cut Deep

\---

Astor’s face was stone, his grey-brown eyes piercing as he stood in the middle of the living room. Charlotte felt the weight of his gaze, and it was suffocating.

“How could you let him in?” Astor’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tense silence.

Charlotte crossed her arms defensively, her heart pounding in her chest. “I didn’t let him in, Astor,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “I didn’t even know he was here until—”

“Until what?” Astor interrupted, stepping closer. “Until he tried to ruin everything? Until he threatened my daughter’s safety?”

Charlotte flinched, the emphasis on my daughter like a slap to the face. “She’s our daughter,” she corrected, her tone firm despite the sting of his words.

Astor’s expression didn’t soften. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he snapped. “Bringing him into this house, giving him access to—”

“I didn’t bring him here!” Charlotte interrupted, her frustration boiling over. “Why are you blaming me for his actions?”

“Because you’re the only reason he’s involved at all!” Astor shot back, his voice rising.

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from her lungs. She stared at him, stunned, as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” Charlotte said, her voice trembling. “I didn’t ask to be dragged into your family’s mess. All I’ve ever done is try to protect Jasmine, and you—”

“Then maybe you should have done a better job,” Astor said coldly.

Charlotte’s mouth fell open, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered.

Astor’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. The silence that followed was deafening, each second stretching into an eternity.

Without another word, Charlotte turned and walked out of the room, her steps quick and purposeful. She couldn’t stay—not after this.

\---

In the bedroom, Charlotte grabbed a suitcase from the closet and threw it onto the bed. Her hands trembled as she yanked open drawers, pulling out clothes and stuffing them into the bag with little regard for neatness.

Jasmine’s laugh echoed faintly from the hallway, a painful reminder of why she couldn’t just leave without a plan. But right now, all she could think about was putting as much distance between herself and Astor as possible.

“Mommy?” Jasmine’s voice broke through her thoughts.

Charlotte turned to find her daughter standing in the doorway, clutching her favorite doll. “What are you doing?” Jasmine asked, her big eyes filled with confusion.

Charlotte forced a smile, crouching down to Jasmine’s level. “Mommy’s just packing a few things, sweetheart,” she said gently. “Why don’t you go play for a little while?”

Jasmine hesitated, her gaze shifting between the suitcase and her mother’s face. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Not yet,” Charlotte said, brushing a strand of hair from Jasmine’s face. “But I’ll let you know, okay?”

Jasmine nodded slowly, her little brow furrowed in thought. “Okay, Mommy.”

As Jasmine walked away, Charlotte’s forced smile faded, and the weight of the situation settled heavily on her shoulders.

\---

By the time the suitcase was full, Charlotte’s emotions had reached a boiling point. She couldn’t stay in this house any longer—not with Astor’s accusations still ringing in her ears.

She zipped the suitcase closed and grabbed the handle, her movements stiff with anger and hurt. As she made her way toward the door, her mind raced with thoughts of where she would go.

Her feet had barely crossed the threshold when she heard it—a strange sound coming from Astor’s room.

Charlotte froze, her grip tightening on the suitcase handle. The sound was faint at first, almost like a muffled thud, but it was enough to send a chill down her spine.

She turned slowly, her heart pounding as she stared down the hallway. The door to Astor’s room was slightly ajar, and the faint glow of a lamp spilled into the corridor.

For a moment, she considered ignoring it. She could keep walking, leave the house, and never look back. But something about the sound, about the eerie stillness that followed, made her hesitate.

“Astor?” she called out, her voice barely above a whisper.

No response.

Setting the suitcase down, Charlotte took a tentative step forward. Her pulse quickened with each step as she approached the door, her mind racing with possibilities.

What was he doing in there? And why did it sound so... wrong?