Chapter 204

Chapter 204
Megan's POV

Caitlin decided to use exposure therapy on him. She locked Simon in a filthy attic room, thinking she could shock him out of his compulsions. Meanwhile, she'd force him to interact with Emily, hoping normal social contact might fix her distorted self-perception.

"We need to understand what happened to him before you can actually help him."

I'd grown up surrounded by Caitlin's psychology textbooks. I knew enough to recognize the signs. Obsessive cleaning, especially in kids, usually connected to experiences of sexual abuse or moral trauma.

"His past can't be changed. What matters is correcting his behavior patterns," Caitlin said coldly. "Remove the abnormal behavior, and he'll be normal."

Simon's mother hung her head, voice barely a whisper: "I just want him to be normal. I don't care about the process. Caitlin, I trust you completely."

Another fucking useless mother.

A few days later, Caitlin left for an academic conference—two weeks away.

It was summer break. I started sneaking over to that house almost daily.

I'd watch Simon and Emily from the windows, and it hit me: I was trapped too. Caitlin had built invisible walls around me, and I didn't even know where to run because those walls were everywhere—in my head, in my heart, in every breath I took.

For the first time in my life, I wanted to fight back.

"Megan, you shouldn't keep coming here," the housekeeper said gently. "If your mother finds out, she'll be furious."

The woman looked at me with such tenderness. There was something familiar in her eyes—something that made me understand why she was so loyal to Caitlin.

Suddenly, I had a plan.

I waited until she wasn't looking, then smeared cooking oil on the staircase. She slipped and fell, resulting in a fracture.

"Megan, I can't go to the hospital," she whispered through her pain. "If your mother knows I left my post, she'll be angry."

I looked down at her, feeling something cold settle in my chest. "We just won't tell her."

"I can't lie to her anymore. I promised I wouldn't."

I smiled. "I'll take care of them."

"You're just a child."

"Kids can do a lot more than people think."

The pain finally won. She went to the hospital.

For the first time in my life, I was in control.

I started bringing food to the attic. Simon was hostile at first, but after I showed him some empathy, he began trusting me.

"She's actually really kind," he told me about Emily. "She always eats the dirty rice and gives me the clean bowl. And she tries to encourage me, even though I can't understand what she's saying."

Emily lived in her own little world. She didn't seem to grasp how fucked up her situation was—no pain, no fear, just... existing.

I started teaching her to speak properly.

Emily was brilliant. She picked up simple words quickly, though she still preferred her weird language.

Then I had an idea that changed everything.

I took Emily outside.

For the first time in years, she saw the real world. The sun on her face, the wind in her hair, the sound of normal people living normal lives.

It was the biggest mistake of my life.

A patrol officer spotted us. He recognized me and brought us home—straight to Caitlin.

Caitlin's punishment was swift and brutal. I was permanently banned from setting foot in the attic again.

But I couldn't stop thinking about Emily. I'd given her a taste of freedom, and now she was back in that cage, probably going insane from the contrast.

Once you've seen the light, the darkness becomes unbearable.

So I decided to execute my real plan.

I went to see Ophelia again. She was skeletal, hollow-eyed, staring out the window like a broken doll.

But when she saw me, something sparked in those dead eyes.

"Megan, you came."

I'd stopped giving her the medications for two weeks while Caitlin was away. Ophelia's mind was clearer now—clearer enough to understand what I was about to offer.

I pressed a bottle of sleeping pills into her trembling hands. "You can't escape Caitlin's control. But Emily can. Tomorrow, Caitlin leaves for another conference. I'll make sure the housekeeper is gone."

Ophelia's eyes filled with understanding—and gratitude.

"Megan, thank you."

Days later, the police found Ophelia’s body. She'd used her suicide to buy Emily's freedom.

"Did you plan this?" Caitlin's voice was ice-cold when she confronted me. "She was one of the few people who was ever kind to me, and you killed her. You're getting revenge on me, aren't you?"

I backed away, suddenly realizing what I'd become. I'd manipulated a mother's love and turned it into a weapon. I'd killed someone.

But God help me, I also felt victorious. Finally, Caitlin was the one in pain.

Caitlin covered her face and started crying—real tears, maybe the first genuine emotion I'd ever seen from her.

"I just wanted to prove that if she'd grown up like me, she'd have become like me too. I didn't want to be evil, but I never had a choice. Not everyone gets to choose to be good."

I looked at her with nothing but contempt. Bullshit excuses.

She'd envied Ophelia's perfect life—the loving family, the optimistic personality, the fairy-tale romance. She'd used Emily as a proxy for young Ophelia, trying to prove that anyone could be broken under the right circumstances.

"Megan Weber," she said, her voice carrying the weight of a curse, "remember this: you killed her. You are a murderer."

Those words followed me for years. They shaped everything I became, everything I feared about myself.

But they also taught me something Caitlin never intended: sometimes being a monster is the only way to save someone from a bigger monster.

And sometimes, that has to be enough.