Azariah - God Has Helped

Chapter 12

As the months passed, March 15th haunted Kiara relentlessly. The day replayed in her mind like a cruel, unending loop. Fear and paranoia had become her constant companions, and she had attempted to escape the pain countless times, desperate to end the misery that consumed her.

Now, she stayed at her mother's house, counting the days until she could finally move to their new home, a small distance away. Davar had secured a job as a farm manager, and they would be moving onto the property where he worked. Kiara should have felt a spark of excitement, but she didn't. The thought of leaving her mother's house stirred more dread than hope. Adjusting to an entirely new environment, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, filled her with anxiety. Trust had become a fragile thing, nearly impossible to give.

She packed her things anxiously, her hands trembling slightly as the days crawled forward. Her mother's treatment of her only deepened her anger. The thought that her rape could have been avoided gnawed at her relentlessly, and she blamed her mother for her harshness, for not understanding, for not helping when she had asked. 

Two weeks before the incident, she had pleaded for shelter, for a temporary safe haven while they arranged their own place, but her mother's rejection pierced her heart like a knife. "I cannot help you with your child," her mother had said coldly, as if her pain was irrelevant. Kiara's blood boiled. How could she be so heartless? Even now, their child, Dantae, had all he needed—and more.

Kiara bore much of the burden herself, contributing to groceries, making sure there was enough for the house despite the coldness she endured from her mother. But every passing day made it clear—she could not stay here. The shadows of disdain and judgment were suffocating her. She needed to leave. She needed Davar to take her far from this environment before it crushed her completely.

She held her baby close, pressing his small, innocent face against her chest. How she wished she could return to that innocence herself, to a time without pain, without scars, without betrayal. The cruel lessons of growing up were written all over her, and the weight of them made her chest ache.

Tears began to spill uncontrollably, cascading down her cheeks. Anger surged in her like wildfire—anger at the world, at her mother, at herself. She needed Davar to rescue her from this torment. All she wanted was to be with her child and the child's father, the only people she could truly call her family.

Her mother's voice, sharp and full of irritation, cut through her reverie.

"The food cannot share. Too many mouths here to feed, all who shouldn't be here."

Kiara's eyes darted toward the kitchen window, disbelief and fury coursing through her. Could her mother really be this heartless? It was only food—food she had contributed to—and yet her mind refused to let her eat it. Her stomach ached, not from hunger, but from the suffocating anger and humiliation.

Her sister appeared moments later, carrying a plate of food. In a flash, Kiara's hands flung it to the ground, sending dishes clattering. Profanities escaped her in a torrent, but she did not care. She didn't care what anyone thought. How dare they complain, how dare they judge her? Steam practically poured from her ears as she turned back to her packed belongings, ready to leave this house, this prison of judgment and disdain.

Her phone was in her hand before she could even think. She had to call Davar now. He had to get her out. She could no longer endure the suffocating weight of everyone else's presence. Her world had shrunk to the two most precious beings in her life—her son and Davar.

The phone rang, and finally, Davar answered.

"Hey baby, what's up?" he said, his voice low and teasing, as though he were right there.