Living Like a Mouse? How About a Lion?

The Walls Have Ears

After the whole "needle incident," I didn't think things could get any more chaotic, but I underestimated my brothers' ability to make everything worse.

I was back in my room, nursing my sore arms and trying to make sense of the whole ordeal. Reynold had been oddly quiet after helping me, which was strange enough in itself. Usually, he was the one throwing glares and sarcastic comments, but this time he just left, mumbling something about handling things.

Yeah, sure. 

Because handling things has always gone so well around here.

I wasn't expecting much. The maids would probably get a slap on the wrist and be back to tormenting me by dinner time. But what I wasn't expecting, as I sat there trying to figure out how I was going to survive the rest of the day, was the sudden shouting.

At first, I thought I was imagining it. After all, it's not like I hadn't been under a lot of stress lately. But then the voices grew louder, and I realized it was coming from the hallway. And not just any voices—Reynold and Derrick.

Oh, this should be good.

I crept toward the door, pressing my ear against the wood to hear better. The walls in this house were thick, but when my brothers argued, nothing could muffle it.

"You let this happen under your watch!" Reynold's voice was sharp, full of anger and frustration. "Do you even care what they're doing to her?"

Derrick's response was just as heated. "She brings it on herself! Always stirring up trouble, always trying to make everything about her! What do you expect me to do, coddle her like a child?"

Oh, this is going to be a fun one.

There was a brief silence, and I could picture Reynold clenching his fists, trying to keep his temper in check. I leaned closer, hoping I wouldn't miss anything. This wasn't exactly an everyday occurrence—my brothers arguing about me. Usually, Derrick didn't bother with me at all, and Reynold was too busy pretending not to care.

But now? It sounded like they were ready to tear each other apart.

"You think this is about her?" Reynold's voice rose again, angrier this time. "This is about what you've let happen under this roof! Do you have any idea what they've been doing to her? What they've put her through? She's not some toy for your maids to play with, Derrick!"

My heart did a weird little flip in my chest at that. Reynold, actually defending me? This was new. I half-expected Derrick to shut him down with some cold, dismissive comment, but instead, there was another pause.

And then Derrick's voice came back, colder than ever. "She's a liability, Reynold. Always has been, always will be. We gave her everything—brought her into this family—and this is how she repays us? By causing trouble at every turn?"

Oh, come on, Derrick. 

I know you have more creativity than that. 

"Causing trouble"?

 At least accuse me of something more interesting.

I rolled my eyes and leaned my head against the door. This was the usual Derrick spiel. Penelope = Problem. He couldn't see past that, no matter what I did. I could walk on water, and he'd still find a way to accuse me of getting my shoes wet.

Reynold wasn't having it, though. His voice, sharp as a knife, cut through Derrick's icy indifference. "So what, you're just going to stand by and let them abuse her? Let her starve, let them hurt her? Is that how you handle things now?"

Starve. Hurt. The words hung in the air like accusations, and I could almost hear Derrick shift uncomfortably. Reynold wasn't backing down, and it was throwing Derrick off. Good. Maybe a little discomfort would shake some sense into him.

"You're overreacting," Derrick finally snapped. "It's not as bad as you're making it out to be."

"Oh really?" Reynold's voice was practically shaking with anger now. "Then why don't you go and see for yourself? Why don't you take a look at the bruises on her arms, the state she's in? You've been so busy playing the noble guardian, but you haven't even bothered to look."

I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. Reynold was really going for it. This was... unexpected. Part of me wanted to burst out into the hallway just to see the look on Derrick's face, but I stayed put. No sense in interrupting what was shaping up to be a spectacular argument.

There was another long silence. I could practically feel the tension through the door. Derrick wasn't used to being challenged like this, and it was clearly throwing him off. Good. Let him squirm for once.

"Fine," Derrick said at last, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll deal with it."

Oh, here we go. 

"Deal with it"? 

That's not ominous at all.

Reynold didn't back down, though. "You'd better. Because if you don't, I will."

I nearly gasped. Reynold had never talked to Derrick like this before, at least not that I knew of. I knew they butted heads occasionally, but this was different. This was personal. He was serious.

This might actually be getting interesting.

The door rattled as someone—probably Derrick—stormed off down the hallway. I couldn't hear any more shouting, just the fading sound of footsteps. Then, after what felt like an eternity, there was a soft knock on my door.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to answer. But before I could make up my mind, the door creaked open just a little, and Reynold peeked in.

"Penelope?" he asked, his voice quieter now. "You heard all that, didn't you?"

Me: "You mean the part where you yelled at Derrick so loud I could hear it from here? Yeah, kind of hard to miss."

He sighed, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "I wasn't trying to make things worse. I just... I had to say something."

I raised an eyebrow, still trying to wrap my head around this new, more protective version of Reynold. Was this the same brother who had been so cold to me all this time? The same brother who had watched from a distance as I struggled to survive in this twisted house?

Well, this is a plot twist.

"You didn't have to say anything," I said finally, my voice a little softer than I meant it to be. "But... thanks, I guess."

He looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time in what felt like forever. His eyes softened, just a little, and for a moment, I almost believed that he actually cared.

Almost.

"I'll make sure they don't hurt you again," he said quietly, his jaw clenched. "I'll deal with Derrick if I have to."

Me: "Yeah, good luck with that."

He chuckled, the sound low and bitter, but there was something almost... hopeful in it. Like maybe, just maybe, he was starting to see things differently. Or maybe that was just my wishful thinking. Either way, it was a nice change from the usual cold indifference.

As he turned to leave, I leaned back against the wall, letting out a long, tired sigh.

Well, that was unexpected. 

But hey, at least things are getting interesting.