Third person POV
The kitchen smelled of spices, fresh herbs, and warm bread as Amber, Jasmine, and Maya stood side by side with Marian, chopping vegetables and laughing softly as they worked. The atmosphere was almost normal, as if they weren’t walking on eggshells around Evelyn’s fragile state.
Evelyn sat on the edge of the kitchen stool, staring blankly at the countertop. Amber nudged her gently. “Come on, Evie. Stir this sauce for me. It’s literally foolproof, I swear.”
Evelyn hesitated before reluctantly standing and taking the wooden spoon. She stirred the pot mindlessly, her movements slow and mechanical. Maya kept glancing over at her, her brow furrowed in concern.
“So,” Jasmine said, trying to inject some cheerfulness, “what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever put in pasta? Mine was marshmallows.”
Amber groaned. “Why would you even admit that?”
Evelyn let out a small, involuntary chuckle, which felt foreign even to herself. For a moment, it seemed like a tiny crack in the heavy clouds that loomed over her.
The group worked together to finish the meal, setting the table with plates of steaming food. Marian seemed grateful for their help, her eyes softening as she watched them try to bring Evelyn back to life.
---
After dinner, Evelyn’s friends gathered their bags, lingering near the door as if reluctant to leave her. “We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Amber said, her tone gentle.
Evelyn only nodded, her eyes downcast.
Mariam waited until the house was quiet before she brought a plate of food up to Evelyn’s room. She knocked softly and pushed the door open, finding Evelyn curled up on her bed, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“I thought you might be hungry,” Mariam said, setting the plate on the bedside table.
Evelyn didn’t respond. Her eyes were red-rimmed and unfocused, staring into the void.
Mariam sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “I know it’s hard, Evelyn. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now, but you can’t let this consume you. You have to eat, you have to...”
“Please,” Evelyn whispered, her voice hoarse. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Mariam hesitated but finally stood and left, closing the door softly behind her leaving Evelyn in her cocoon of blankets.
---
The next morning, the sunlight filtering through the curtains did nothing to lift Evelyn’s spirits. Marian knocked on her door, pleading with her to get up for school.
“I can’t,” Evelyn mumbled, burying her face in the pillow.
“You have to, Evelyn,” Marian said, her voice wavering. “You can’t hide forever.”
But Evelyn didn’t move.
Her friends showed up later in the day, their knocks persistent and their voices filled with concern. Evelyn ignored them, curling deeper into her bed. Her phone buzzed with calls and messages from Luke, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer.
---
When Evelyn did leave the house, it was only to go to the lake. The solitude of the quiet water became her refuge. She would sit on the bank, her knees pulled to her chest, crying until her throat was raw and her body ached from the tension.
She felt like a ghost of herself, drifting through days that blurred together.
---
A week later, as she walked to the lake, she noticed something unusual. A trail of flower petals lined the path, leading to the water’s edge.
Her steps slowed as she followed the trail, her brow furrowed in confusion. At the end of the path was a bouquet of vibrant flowers, their colors a stark contrast to the dullness that had taken over her world.
She picked up the bouquet, her fingers trembling slightly. A soft rustle behind her made her turn. Luke stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets and his expression filled with a mixture of hope and worry.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked, his voice gentle but firm.
Evelyn looked down at the flowers, unable to meet his gaze. “I... I don’t know what to say to you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Luke took a step closer, his eyes scanning her face. “Evelyn... you’ve changed. You’re so pale, so tired. I’m worried about you.”
She shook her head, clutching the bouquet tightly. “I’m fine,” she said, though her voice cracked on the words. “Thank you for this, but I have to go.”
Before he could respond, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there with a pained expression on his face.
---
When Evelyn got home, she was startled to find Langston sitting in the living room with another man in a sharp suit. Her father stood nearby, his face tense.
“Evelyn,” Her father said, his tone smooth and practiced. “We need to discuss something important.”
He handed her a piece of paper. Her hands trembled as she read it. The document was a statement, denying everything she’d said in the video and issuing an apology.
Her father stepped closer, his voice strained. “Evelyn, you need to sign this. Langston has been helping us keep the company afloat, and if we lose his support, we’ll lose everything. Max’s tuition, the house... we can’t afford to risk it.”
Evelyn’s heart pounded in her chest. Her father’s words felt like a betrayal, a sharp knife twisting in her gut. She clutched the paper, her hands shaking.
“I can’t,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
“You have to,” her father insisted. “Do it for the family.”
Langston watched her intently, his eyes cold and calculating.
Evelyn felt the tears welling up again as she sank into a chair. Her father’s words echoed in her mind, suffocating and inescapable. With a trembling hand, she picked up the pen.
YOU ARE READING
EVELYN
RandomEvelyn, a 17-year-old girl from a wealthy family, is raped by her father's business partner during a weekend gathering at their lavish estate. In the aftermath, she confides in her father, believing he will protect her. Instead, he strikes a deal wi...
