Chapter 3 Her Home
CHAPTER THREE — Aria’s POV
Her Home
The large estate rose before me, its walls tall and majestic, yet I barely had the strength to lift my legs. My body shook with exhaustion, hunger, and the bitter weight of past betrayals. My hands trembled as I clutched the old woman’s hand.
“This… this is it?” I whispered, my voice cracking. “This is really my home?”
“Yes, child,” Miriam said softly. “Your real family is inside. They’ve been waiting for you.”
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to hope. But hope had always hurt me before.
The doors opened, and I stepped inside. My knees buckled under me, but the warmth of a home filled with life kept me moving forward.
“Mother… Father… it’s me… Aria,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
The moment they saw me, my parents rushed forward. My mother knelt, her hands trembling as they moved across my face and arms, as if checking for a secret hidden in my skin.
And then… her eyes widened.
“My God… the birthmark,” she whispered, touching the small mark on my wrist. “It’s really you.”
My father leaned closer, inspecting my frail frame. “You… you’ve been starving. How did my daughter get so thin… what happened? How did you survive?”
I lowered my gaze, my body weak, my stomach twisting. “I… I managed,” I said quietly, my voice trembling. “I… I’m okay now…”
My mother’s eyes filled with tears. “Aria… my little girl… Although, when I gave birth to you, I wanted to call you Mina… but I gave that name to our other daughter, Aria is fine,” she whispered. She pulled me into a tight embrace. “You’re finally home. We’ve missed you so much.”
My father’s hands rested gently on my shoulders, steady and warm. “Sit… eat. You must regain your strength.”
The old woman smiled softly and stepped back.
The table was laid with warm bread, fruits, milk, and soup. My body ached as I tried to reach for a piece, but my hands trembled uncontrollably.
“Eat, child. You need it,” my mother said gently, guiding my hands.
I nodded, ready to take a bite, when a piercing voice rang out:
“Mum! Dad! You don’t love me anymore!”
I froze. My heart sank.
A girl stood at the doorway, her voice cracking with false emotion. “Now that your precious daughter is back… you’ve forgotten me?”
I looked at my parents. Their faces stiffened. My mother’s warmth vanished, replaced by a cool, careful expression. My father’s jaw clenched tightly.
“No, darling,” my mother said softly, gathering the girl into her arms. “We could never forget you. You’re our precious daughter too.”
My father nodded, his hand resting on her shoulder. “We will never leave you alone. Don’t think that.”
Their attention shifted fully to her, and for a moment, I felt invisible. But I didn’t care. I only wanted shelter and food.
Yet their eyes weren’t on me. Their hands weren’t for me. Their voices didn’t comfort me.
I swallowed hard. My stomach twisted violently. My legs felt weak. I bolted to a corner of the room and vomited, the world spinning around me. My body was trembling, aching, and my heart shattered even more.
“Call the doctor,” my mother said softly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
The family doctor arrived, a calm man with careful eyes. He examined me thoroughly, his hands gentle, his voice soft.
“Aria… we need to run some tests,” he said kindly.
Fear gripped me like ice. “Tests? What… what is wrong with me? I am fine, no need”
I whispered, voice breaking.
“We have to”
Minutes later, he returned, his face solemn.
“You’re… pregnant,” he said quietly.
The room froze. I looked at my parents, hoping for anything, a word of comfort, a hand on mine, a glance of understanding.
Instead… I saw worry, confusion, and hesitation.
My mother’s lips trembled. “A child… out of wedlock…” she whispered. “I… I don’t know what to say…”
My father’s brow furrowed deeply. “We… we will have to think about what is best… for you… for the baby…”
I sank to the floor, hugging my stomach, shivering violently. “I… I didn’t… I didn’t mean…” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
They didn’t scold me. They didn’t turn me away. But their eyes no longer rested on me. Their attention was entirely on the other daughter.
Mina wicked smile stretched across her face. She leaned closer, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
“You think you can take my place?” she whispered. “You must be dreaming. You’re weak. You’re nothing. You’re alone… and always will be.”
I curled into myself, tears flowing freely, my body shaking violently. My stomach churned, my chest ached, and my heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest.
Alone. Abandoned. Humiliated.
For the first time in years, when I thought I had a family, I had no one. No family, no protector, no warmth. Only pain.
And yet, even through the tears, through the trembling and sickness, a tiny spark flickered deep within me. A spark of something stubborn. Something that refused to die.
Somewhere inside, I whispered, barely able to speak:
“I… I am nothing… no one… but I will survive… somehow…”