Chapter 18

3rd person pov

In S City, the Spellman house was no longer the warm and vibrant home it used to be. Not since they sent their youngest family member away—to get help. Help, after she had tried to harm her sister and herself.

The walls seemed quieter, heavier, as if the absence of her laughter had drained all life from them. Walking into her youngest daughter Amiriah's room, the Amara sat on the bed, sadness etched into every line on her face. It had been four years since they sent Amiriah away, and three since the news of her death reached them—a fire at the hospital, they said. An accident that claimed the lives of many, including her precious daughter.

She traced her fingers along the edge of the bed, memories flooding back. Everyone in the family had their own way of coping, but nothing had ever been the same. No one smiled. No one laughed. It was as if the light had gone out with Amiriah.

Lenna, her second youngest and Amiriah's twin, had taken it the hardest. For a week after hearing the news, she had been bedridden—crying, calling out for the sister who would never answer. And now? Now, Lenna drowned her grief in underground clubs the family owned, chasing distractions she would never truly find.

Kario, her middle child, had locked away his feelings behind an impenetrable wall. His fists became his voice—fighting anyone who dared cross his path. It was easier to punch away the pain than to speak it aloud.

Zuri and Zari, her older daughters, tried to pretend they were fine. They smiled when she was watching, laughed when she asked—but their eyes betrayed the truth. Guilt clung to them, a heavy shadow they couldn't shake. They had agreed to send their sister away, and that decision haunted them every day.

Her oldest son, though—he was just like his father. Cold, distant, and composed. Both of them wore their indifference like armor, convincing the world they didn't care. They called Amiriah a "sick, mentally unstable girl," a mistake best forgotten. But she knew the truth. Beneath their icy exteriors, they missed her. They just refused to show it.

Every year, on the anniversary of Amiriah's death, the family fractured further.

Lenna disappeared into the clubs. Zuri and Zari buried themselves in training. Kario sought out fights, throwing himself into danger without care. Her husband and oldest son? Always away on business, too busy to face the ghost that lingered in their home.

And that just left her—alone in the Spellman house with her daughter-in-law, Yara. While the others ran from their grief, she faced it head-on. She came to Amiriah's room, year after year, and cried for the daughter she lost. For the girl no one seemed to understand until it was too late.

The house was quieter than ever, but in the silence, her heart still called out for Amiriah. And in that empty room, it almost felt like Amiriah was still there—trapped in the shadows of everything left unsaid.