Echoes of Fate

Chapter 01: The Escape

The night air was thick with tension as Evelyn Carter quietly crept through the small, cluttered house that had been her prison for the past five years. Every creak of the floorboards under her bare feet sent a jolt of fear through her, her heart pounding so loudly in her chest that she was certain it would wake Kyle. Her husband, sprawled out on the living room couch, was snoring heavily, surrounded by a scattered collection of empty beer cans. The stale scent of alcohol hung in the air, mingling with the oppressive atmosphere that seemed to permeate every corner of the house.

She paused at the threshold of the living room, holding her breath as she watched Kyle's chest rise and fall in a deep, steady rhythm. His face was slack with drunken sleep, and she could see the faint smudges of beer stains on his shirt. His temper had grown more volatile over the years, his jealousy and control tightening around her like a noose. Ever since the accident at the factory—the one that had cost him his job—he had become even more unpredictable. His anger, once sporadic, had turned into a constant simmering rage, always on the brink of boiling over.

"Useless," he muttered, even in his dreams. "Can't do anything right, can you?"

Evelyn flinched, her grip tightening on the doorframe of the kitchen. Even unconscious, he found a way to get under her skin, his words like a blade cutting deeper than any slap he'd thrown her way. She forced herself to move, inch by inch, praying the next step wouldn't be her last.

The house itself had become a suffocating prison—every crack in the walls, every worn piece of furniture a reminder of the life she had once dreamed of but had long since lost. The dim light from the single bulb in the kitchen flickered occasionally, casting eerie shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own. It was as if the house was alive, breathing in the despair and hopelessness that had settled over it like a shroud

As she moved across the room, memories of that day flooded her mind.

The nausea had hit her hard, just before dawn. She had barely made it to the bathroom, clinging to the cold porcelain of the toilet as her stomach churned. For ten agonizing minutes, she dry-heaved, her body trembling with exhaustion. She hadn't turned on the light, afraid of waking Kyle too early. Instead, the dim glow of early morning crept through the window, casting shadows across the cracked mirror. She wiped her mouth with a shaking hand and stared at her reflection. The thought had come out of nowhere—Emma.

It had been four years since she'd lost contact with her closest friend, thanks to Kyle's possessive control over her life. Before that, they'd shared everything, from secrets to simple lunches at the local diner. Evelyn's mind drifted back to one of their last outings. They had been laughing over burgers and fries when Emma had broken the news. She was pregnant.

"I can't stand the morning sickness," Emma had groaned, rolling her eyes but smiling all the same, her hand resting protectively over her belly. "Every morning, it's the same thing. I barely make it to the bathroom before it hits. I've heard it gets better, though."

At the time, Evelyn had laughed it off, sympathetic but not truly understanding what her friend had been going through. Now, standing in the darkness of the Bathroom, the reality slammed into her with brutal clarity.

Could I... be pregnant?

The thought made her stomach drop. Her hands instinctively drifted to her abdomen, her heart racing with the terrifying possibility.

She had made her way downstairs to start breakfast, her stomach churning with every step. The nausea lingered, but she pushed it down, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. She moved mechanically, setting out the plates, pouring coffee, and frying eggs. Just as she added the last plate to the table, the smell of the food turned her stomach once more, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through the wave of sickness.