my lily pad

Chapter 3 - Lilly

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"I can't find a pulse. My heart won't start anymore. For you"

You're Losing Me, Taylor Swift

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I hear them before I even walk through the door. My mum's voice, sharp and cutting, rises over the sound of the TV in the living room. Dad's voice comes next, low and angry, the kind of anger that simmers just beneath the surface, waiting to boil over. I stop outside, my hand frozen on the doorknob, already bracing for what's coming.

Maybe I can just turn around. Run away. Go find Aiden, tell him everything. Maybe I can just turn away and never come back. Maybe then they'll realize just how much all of this is affecting me. Maybe then everything will stop. If not for me, for my sister's sake. My sister. I can't just leave. What about her?

I take a deep breath and force myself inside. The minute I step in, the noise is overwhelming—Mom and Dad arguing, the TV blaring, footsteps echoing from upstairs where Olivia is probably hiding. I try to sneak past, my feet moving quickly toward the stairs, but of course, I'm not invisible.

"Lilly!" Mum's voice cuts through the chaos like a knife. "Get in here. Now."

My stomach twists. I want to ignore her, just keep walking up the stairs like I didn't hear, but that would only make things worse. So I do what she says, because what choice do I have? I step into the living room, my hands already clenched into fists by my sides. I know what's coming, but that doesn't make it any easier.

Mum is standing by the couch, arms crossed, her face a mask of frustration. Dad is pacing in front of the TV, his eyes narrowing when he sees me. The air between them feels thick, like they've been fighting for hours and are still nowhere near done.

"You need to listen to us," Dad says, his voice calm in that infuriating way, like he's the reasonable one, like Mum is the problem. "This isn't a game, Lilly. You're old enough to understand what's going on."

My heart sinks. Here we go again. They're always saying that, as if being older means I have to pick a side. I don't want to understand. I don't want to be involved. But they drag me into it anyway, every single time.

"What's going on?" I say, my voice quieter than I intend. I stare at the floor, feeling the pressure in my chest start to rise, my anxiety creeping in like a storm cloud. "Where is Olivia?"

"She's upstairs," Mum snaps, waving her hand like it doesn't matter. "Don't worry about her."

How can I not worry? Olivia is probably crying, scared out of her mind. I can picture it now—her wide eyes, her little hands clutching at her arm, waiting for me to come and fix it. Because that's what I do, right? I fix everything. I'm like a plaster.

"They're fine," Dad adds, his voice dismissive, like I'm the one being unreasonable. "We're talking about you right now."

Of course we are. It's always about me when it comes down to this. They've been fighting over me and my sister for months, but it's not because they want us. It's because they want to win. I know that now. It's not about custody or care, it's about who gets to say they came out on top. I'm just a pawn in their game.

I sit down at the kitchen table without being told, folding my hands in my lap to stop them from shaking. My eyes flick between them, waiting for whatever comes next.

"We've decided..." Mum begins, but Dad cuts her off.

"No, you decided," he snaps. "This is exactly what I mean, Lilly. Your mother—"