EVELYN

CHAPTER TWENTY

Evelyn's POV

I was on the floor, my chest heaving, tears soaking the carpet beneath me. My mother rushed forward, pulling me into her arms, her trembling hands stroking my hair as she whispered incoherent words of comfort. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing could be enough.

I turned my head, expecting my father to join us, to hold me, to say something reassuring. Instead, he stood there, his face cold, his arms crossed tightly.

“You need to stop this, Evelyn,” he said finally, his voice sharp.

I froze in my mother’s arms, my sobs hitching. “What…?”

“Do you realize what you’re saying? You’re accusing Langston of something that could ruin him. Do you have any idea how much he does for this family? For our business?”

I blinked, struggling to understand. “Dad, he—”

“Enough!” he barked, his voice echoing through the room. “Langston has been a cornerstone for our success. He handles major deals, negotiates contracts we could never dream of securing. And you’re here, crying on the floor, saying…this?”

I pulled away from my mother, staring up at him in disbelief. “Are you saying…you don’t believe me?”

“It’s not about believing or not,” he replied, his tone dismissive. “It’s about what’s at stake. Do you know what could happen if this gets out? The scandal? The backlash? The loss of everything we’ve built?”

My stomach churned. I felt like I’d been slapped. “You care more about your business than me?”

He looked at me, his expression hard. “I care about this family, and you’re not thinking clearly. Whatever happened, let it stay within these walls. Nothing good will come from dragging this out into the open.”

I turned to my mother, my voice breaking. “Mom? Are you just going to let him say this? You’re not going to defend me?”

Her lips quivered, but she said nothing. She lowered her head, avoiding my gaze.

“Mom?” I called again, my voice desperate, cracking. “Mom, say something!”

But she stayed silent, her hands gripping the edge of her dress.

I choked on a sob, my chest tightening as I whispered, “You’re not going to stand up for me either?”

She shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks, but she didn’t meet my eyes.

“Take her to her room,” she muttered to my father, her voice barely audible.

I pulled back, shaking my head as tears streamed down my face. “No! Don’t send me away! Don’t turn your back on me!”

But they didn’t listen. My father called for Mariam, who came reluctantly, her face etched with pain, and helped me to my feet. I stumbled toward my room, my legs weak, my heart shattered.

---

When I got to my room, I collapsed onto the bed, the weight of everything crushing me. My throat burned from crying, my voice hoarse as I screamed into the pillow.

“How could they?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “How could they do this to me?”

I clawed at the sheets, pulling them off the mattress in a frenzy. I grabbed the scissors from my desk and began slashing at the fabric, ripping it apart with shaking hands.

Tears blurred my vision as I screamed again, the sound raw and guttural. The sound of betrayal, of abandonment, of pain too heavy to bear.

I tore and tore until the scissors slipped from my hands, clattering to the floor. My chest heaved, my body trembling as I stared at the mess I’d created.

My eyes fell to the scissors.

They glinted under the light, cold and sharp, a strange calm washing over me as I picked them up. My fingers traced the edge, my breathing shallow.

I looked at my hand, trembling as I pressed the blade lightly against my palm. My mind was racing, my heart pounding in my ears.

What if it stopped?

What if I didn’t have to feel this anymore?

I swallowed hard, my tears falling faster, blurring my vision.

----

I stared at the scissors in my trembling hands, the cold metal digging into my skin. My thoughts raced, each one darker than the last. Would this end the pain? Would this silence the screaming in my head?

But then, a voice, faint but steady, whispered in the back of my mind. This won’t help.

I blinked, my tears clouding my vision. This is selfish, I told myself, my grip loosening on the blade. This won’t fix anything. This won’t make it better.

With a shuddering breath, I threw the scissors across the room. They clattered against the wall, falling to the floor with a dull thud. My hands flew to my face as I crumbled to the ground, hugging my knees tightly.

I sobbed into the hollow of my arms, rocking back and forth, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. My chest heaved, my breathing uneven as I whispered, “This isn’t the way…this isn’t the way.”

Minutes passed—maybe hours. Time felt irrelevant as I sat there, cocooned in my own despair. My eyes stung, my throat burned, and my body felt heavy. I needed to do something, anything. I couldn’t let this consume me.

That’s when my gaze fell on my phone lying on the bedside table. Slowly, I reached for it, my fingers trembling as I unlocked the screen. I stared at the empty camera app for a moment, my heart pounding.

My finger hovered over the record button before pressing it. The red light blinked on, and I stared into the lens, my reflection staring back at me—a reflection of pain, anger, and desperation.

“I don’t even know where to start,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying.

I paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “My name is Evelyn James, and I…I’ve been hiding something. Something that’s been eating me alive.”

The words began to pour out, tumbling over each other as I recounted everything. The party. Langston’s words. How he cornered me, took from me, and left me broken.

Tears streamed down my face as I spoke, my voice cracking. “He ... violated me. He left me with nothing.”

My chest heaved, my words faltering as I tried to catch my breath. “I’ve been so scared to say this out loud. Scared of what people will think. Scared of what my family will say. But I can’t hold it in anymore. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay when I’m not.”

I wiped my face, sniffling as I continued. “Langston…I hope you know what you did to me. I hope you feel the weight of your actions, even if you never admit it. I hope you never forget my face, just like I’ll never forget yours.”

As the words spilled out, I felt a strange lightness in my chest, like I’d just let go of a weight I’d been carrying for too long.

“I don’t know what comes next,” I admitted, my voice softer now.

I stopped recording, staring at the screen as the video saved. I didn’t know what I’d do with it—whether I’d share it, keep it, or delete it—but it didn’t matter. I had spoken my truth, even if it was just to myself.

Exhaling deeply, I set the phone down and leaned back against the bed, my body finally succumbing to exhaustion. My eyes fluttered shut, the tears still fresh on my cheeks.

Dinner didn’t matter. Hunger didn’t matter. For the first time in days, I felt a sliver of peace.

And with that, I fell asleep, clutching my pillow like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.