EVELYN

CHAPTER TWELVE

Mariam's POV

The house was alive with the buzz of the party downstairs. Laughter, music, and clinking glasses spilled out into the hallways, but I paid it little mind. My task was simple—check on Evelyn. She hadn’t come down, and her father had already asked for her twice.

I climbed the stairs, the noise of the party fading with each step. The closer I got to Evelyn’s room, the more I noticed something was off. It was quiet, unnaturally so, but then I heard it—a muffled scream.

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Evelyn?" I called out, quickening my pace. No response. The scream came again, followed by what sounded like crying, loud and guttural.

Panic gripped me as I reached her door and knocked. "Evelyn? Are you alright?"

Nothing.

I knocked harder, my voice trembling. "Evelyn, it’s Mariam. Please open the door."

Still nothing.

With every passing second, my fear deepened. Swallowing hard, I reached for the doorknob and pushed the door open, whispering a quick prayer under my breath.

The room was chaos. The bed was unmade, the sheets twisted and stained red. A strange metallic smell hung heavy in the air, making me gag. Clothes were strewn across the floor, and the curtains were drawn tight, casting the room in a dim, suffocating light.

My stomach churned as I stepped inside. "Evelyn?" I called again, my voice breaking.

I scanned the room, my eyes falling on the bathroom door, slightly ajar. Something inside me knew that was where I’d find her.

As I approached, I pushed the door open cautiously, and the sight before me made my knees buckle.

Evelyn lay on the cold tiled floor, her body curled in on itself. She was naked, her pale skin marred by red stains and angry marks. Her hair was tangled, sticking to her damp cheeks. Her face was ghostly pale, her lips slightly parted as though she had been crying until she couldn’t anymore.

“Dear God…” I whispered, tears already spilling from my eyes. I rushed to her side, dropping to my knees. My hands trembled as I reached out, touching her face gently.

“Evelyn, baby, wake up,” I sobbed, my voice cracking. “Please, wake up. What happened to you?”

She didn’t stir.

I wrapped my arms around her limp body, pulling her close to me. Her skin was cold, and the stains on her thighs told a story I didn’t want to believe.

“Who did this to you?” I choked out, my tears falling freely now. “Who hurt you like this?”

Her head lolled against my shoulder, her fragile frame feeling so small, so helpless. I cradled her like a child, rocking her gently as my sobs filled the small bathroom.

I looked up, my tear-streaked face turned toward the ceiling. “Why, Lord?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Why would you let something like this happen? She’s just a child… just a child…”

For a moment, all I could do was hold her, my heart breaking into pieces. The strong, stubborn girl I had come to know was gone, replaced by someone who looked hollow, broken.

I wiped at my face, forcing myself to move. Evelyn needed me.

With a trembling resolve, I gently laid her back down and reached for a towel, draping it over her to preserve what little dignity she had left. I cleaned her as best as I could, careful not to hurt her further. Each mark, each bruise made my heart ache even more.

I carried her back to her bed, her weight light in my arms. She felt so fragile, as though she might break if I wasn’t careful. I set her down, smoothing her hair away from her face as fresh tears rolled down my cheeks.

“You didn’t deserve this,” I whispered, stroking her cheek. “None of this. I’m so sorry, my baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

I stripped the bloodstained sheets from her bed, replacing them with fresh ones. The scent of lavender detergent filled the room, but it couldn’t mask the heavy sorrow that lingered in the air.

Once I had her settled, I sat on the edge of the bed, my hand resting lightly on hers. She was still unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady.

I watched her, my tears never stopping. Her father could throw all the parties he wanted, fill the house with strangers and laughter, but none of it mattered. Not now. Not when his daughter was lying here, broken and silent.

I stood up, hesitating on what to do. I bite my nails hard, staring at the innocent child sleeping peacefully on her bed.
Tears stung my eyes as I shook my head..
I couldn't summon the courage.
I couldn't tell this to her father.. he would die of heart attack.
But then, what do I do?