Flashback: 8 years ago

The door swung open,and there he was.

Professor Kingston. The star of my nightmare.

His teeth flashed in a wide grin, his laugh filling the doorway.My father was laughing too, deep and hearty, as if the two of them had just shared the best joke in the world. Kingston's hand clapped my father's shoulder like they were brothers, not predator and victim's parent.

Back then I was still deluded. I believed my father was a good man.So I wondered what he was doing with Professor Kingston. The devil himself.

But now, I knew better. They were birds of the same feather. My father was a horrible man. He was a bad man. Just like his best friend.

The world tilted, spinning around me. My knees nearly buckled as I struggled to breathe.

My mother's hand pressed firmly into my back, nudging me forward like I was being pushed onto a stage. I didn't want to move. I wanted to run. My body screamed at me to turn, to flee, to disappear before his eyes landed on me.

But it was too late.

Kingston's gaze flicked over my mother's shoulder and landed on me.For'the smallest second, recognition darkened his smile. His eyes narrowed-barely noticeable-but I saw it. I felt it.

Then, as if nothing at all had happened, he spread his grin wider."Savannah! What a surprise." His voice was silk, smooth and mocking."How are you doing,lovely girl?"

My stomach churned violently. I glared at him and looked away, still feeling his intense gaze on me.

My father turned too, spotting me. "Savannah? What are you doing here? Don't you see I'm in the middle of something important?" His tone was more irritation than concern.

"She has something to tell you," my mother said crisply, steering me forward with steady hands.

I stumbled into the office, feeling trapped, like the walls wee already closing in on me. The air smelled of whiskey and tobacco, sharp enough to sting my nose. Papers and ledgers littered my father's desk, but he didn't care about any of it now. His eyes were fixed on me, expectant and impatient. Full of hate.

Kingston casually leaned against the desk, folding his arms, the very picture of composure. Only I knew what those hands had done. How they'd held me down.

My throat tightened. Words scratched at the back of it but wouldn't come out.

"Speak," my father said, his voice hard. "Your mother said you have something to say. So say it. I don't have time for games.".

My eyes darted to Mom. She gave me the smallest nod, lips pressed in a tight line. It wasn't encouragement. It was command.

"I..." My voice trembled. My fingers twisted in the hem of my skirt

My legs shook so hard I thought I'd collapse. "Dad,I-"

"Savannah," Kingston interrupted smoothly, his tone warm, falsely familiar. "You look distressed. Did something happen? Are you alright?"

The way he tilted his head, the mockery in his voice. It was like a private message only I could hear. A reminder. A warning.

Tell them, and you'll regret it.

My chest caved. Panic clawed up my throat. I felt small. And alone.

"Savannah." My father's voice snapped. "Out with it now!"

Tears welled again, spilling hot down my cheeks. My lips parted. The truth pressed against them, desperate to be free. He hurt me. He broke me.He ruined me.

But when I looked at Kingston, standing there beside my father.smiling like a trusted friend... when I saw the way my father rested his hand on Kingston's shoulder, laughing like he was family...

I knew.

I knew no one would believe me.

I knew no one would protect me.

"I..." My voice cracked. My hands shook at my sides. "I... wanted to apologize for interrupting your meeting."

The words shattered something inside me. I was ashamed of myself.Ashamed of being weak and pathetic.

A flicker of relief crossed Kingston's eyes. My mother's shoulders

relaxed just slightly. My father exhaled through his nose, irritation ebbing into dismissal.

"Then leave," he said gruffly, waving me off. "And don't go barging into my office like a wild child again."

"Yes, sir," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

I turned, my body heavy, each step a mountain. Behind me. I heard Kingston's chuckle, low and satisfied. My father laughed with him.My mother closed the door quietly. the click echoing like a verdict.

And I understood then with bruatal clarity-

I was utterly, completely alone.

I walked out of the office on legs that didn't feel like they belonged to me. Each step down the hallway felt like I was wading through cement.my throat burning with unshed screams. By the time I reached the end of the corridor, my vision was swimming, and I pressed myself against the wall, struggling to breathe.

The tears came fast then-hot, uncontrollable, choking me. My body folded in on itself, shaking violently as sobs tore through me. I buried my face in my hands, 'muffling the sound, but it didn't matter. No one would come. No one ever came.

The house was too big, too empty, too practiced in silence.

Chloe found me first. Her small footsteps hurried across the polished wood until she appeared, eyes wide, face pale. "Savannah?" she whispered,kneeling down beside me.

I swiped furiously at my tears, trying to pull myself together, but it was useless. My face was wet, blotchy, my chest heaving.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice curious.

I couldn't tell her. Not here. Not when the monster was still in the next room laughing with my father like nothing had ever happened.All I could do was shake my head, whispering, "Don't-don't say anything.Please."

Her lips pressed into a worried line. She reached for my hand,and I gripped hers so tightly it must have hurt. She didn't pull away. But she grimaced.

"Eww. Now you've ruined my manicure." She whined, but didn't let go. "I just got these done."

"I'm sorry, Chlo." I apologized in tears.

We stayed like that until the sound of heavy footsteps approached.1stiffened instantly. My father's laugh echoed down the hall,followed by Kingston's lower chuckle. The sound sliced through me like a blade.

"Come on," Chloe urged softly, tugging my hand. "We should go upstairs. You look like a mess. And your period's running down your leg."

But before we could move, Kingston's shadow stretched down the hall.He emerged with his usual effortless smile, tipping his head at us like a man greeting his neighbor's children.

"Ladies," he said smoothly. "Don't stay up too late." His eyes lingered on me for half a second too long, just enough to make bile rise in my throat. Then he walked out the door, humming to himself, as if he hadn't just stolen everything from me.

The front door clicked shut. And silence filled the house again.That was when I heard my mother's voice from the office doorway. "Savannah.Come back inside."

I froze. I gripped my sister's hand tighter. I needed comfort. I needed touch. I needed someone to lean on.

"Go," my mother said again, firmer this time. Her eyes flicked between us."Alone."

She tried to withdraw her hand from mine. But I held her tighter.Begging her with my eyes not to let go.

Chloe shook her head at me, whispering, "Let go, Sav."

But I already knew there was no escaping this. With trembling legs, I rose and released Chloe's hand, giving her the smallest shake of my head.

Stay,

I walked back down the hall, each step dragging me closer to the gallows.

Inside the office, the air was heavier. My father was seated behind his desk now, glass of whiskey in hand, his expression very much readable.My mother stood beside him, arms crossed, her mouth drawn in a thin line.

"Sit," my father ordered.

I obeyed,lowering myself into the stiff leather chair that swallowed me whole. My palms were slick, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might bruise my ribs.

"Do you know what you've done?" my mmother asked quietly. Her tone was calm, too calm, like she was holding back something sharp.

I shook my head mutely.

"You almost destroyed everything today," she continued. "Everything your father and I have worked for. Do you understand that?"

My lips parted, my voice breaking."Mom-he hurt me.He-"

"Stop." Her voice snapped like a whip. "That man is a pillar in this community. He's been nothing but loyal to our family. Do you think anyone will believe the word of a teenage girl over his? Do you think your father's reputation could survive such a scandal?"

Tears streamed down my face again, unstoppable. "It's not a scandal-it's the truth-"

My father slammed his glass down, the sharp sound making me jump.His face twisted in anger.

"Enough,Savannah! You think you can come in here,crying like some victim, and tarnish a man's name? A man I trust? You've embarrassed me enough today. Don't you dare speak another word of this nonsense."

"It's not nonsense!" My voice cracked under the weight of desperation."Dad,please,he-"

"If you hadn't been parading around in those skirts," he cut me off.

his voice filled with disgust. "if you hadn't been throwing yourself around like some cheap little-" He stopped himself, shaking his head."You brought this on yourself."

The words hit me harder than any slap could have.

My chest caved. My breath left me in a ragged gasp. I stared at him,unable to process what I'd just heard. My father. My protector. My own blood. And he was looking at me like I was the one to blame.

My mother's hand landed on his shoulder, quiet but firm. She didn't argue with him. She didn't defend me. She didn't even look at me.

That silence was the loudest answer of all.

I sat there, broken, staring at the two people who were supposed to keep me safe and realizing with brutal certainty...

They never would.