Chapter 3 - UPSTAIRS SANCTUARY AND HIDDEN FEARS
I didn't wait for Jonah's permission or Eleanor's threats; I pivoted sharply and took the stairs two at a time, my training kicking in with clinical precision. Jonah scrambled up behind me, shouting my name in a mixture of anger and panic, his heavy footsteps thundering against the wooden steps.
"Karina, stop right there! This is private property!" Jonah yelled, lunging forward to grab my arm as I reached the landing of the second-floor hallway.
I spun around with a sudden, sharp jerk, slipping out of his grip with practiced ease and pinning him with a cold, authoritative stare that stopped him dead in his tracks. "Touch me again, Jonah, and you won't just be dealing with an angry sister—you'll be facing immediate legal consequences for assault. Now, which room is hers?"
Jonah froze, his hand suspended in mid-air, his eyes widening slightly as he realized the casual intimidation tactics he usually relied upon were completely bouncing off me. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, realizing he had lost control of the narrative the second I walked through his front door.
"It's the second door on the left," Eleanor spat out from the bottom of the stairs, having followed us up to monitor the situation like a general directing troops. "Go ahead and look, Karina. See for yourself how peaceful everything is, and then get out of our lives."
I walked firmly down the hallway and pushed open the second door on the left without knocking, stepping quietly into the dimly lit guest bedroom. The room was sparse, smelling faintly of lavender and antiseptic, with a single bedside lamp casting a warm glow across the sheets. Chloe was sitting up against the headboard, her knees pulled slightly toward her chest, her face pale and her eyes red-rimmed from crying.
When she saw me standing in the doorway, a mixture of immense relief and lingering terror washed over her features, making her lips tremble. "Karina..." she breathed out, her voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioner in the window.
"I'm right here, Chloe," I said softly, instantly softening my tone as I walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down beside her. "You're safe now. I'm taking you home with me tonight, no arguments."
Chloe looked past my shoulder, her eyes locking onto Jonah, who had hovered nervously in the doorway, his expression turning instantly sweet and cajoling. "See, honey?" Jonah said, his voice dropping into a sickeningly gentle, patronizing register. "I told you your sister was just overreacting to a minor kitchen slip. Tell her everything is fine so she can go home and get some sleep."
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Chloe shrank back slightly against the pillows, her gaze darting between Jonah and me, a silent war raging behind her wide, terrified eyes. She wanted to speak, but the psychological chains Jonah had forged over the past two years were heavy and deeply entrenched.
"She doesn't need to say anything right now, Jonah," I said, turning my head to look him dead in the eye while placing a reassuring, steady hand over Chloe's trembling fingers. "Because I can already see the truth written all over this room—and all over her arms."
