Chapter One Hundred and Eight - Home - Maya's POV

The car ride doesn't last long before they pull into town. They take all the right turns and seem to be taking me home. I breathe out a sigh of relief, but then dread clenches at my heart. Why am I really doing this? I've never been one to run before and I hate the idea of doing it, yet I can't seem to stop myself. I blow out a long breath before returning my gaze outside the window. We're in my dad's neighborhood and I'll be in the driveway in a matter of seconds. As soon as that thought leaves my mind, they come to a stop and turn, taking me straight up to the house. The mansion is just as I left it. Everything looks identical to how it was when I was here weeks ago. The yard is neatly tripped, bushes are clipped with not a strand out of place, and the fountain in the middle of the garden is running, sprouting water and splashing the ground. Lights are shining brightly over most of the yard. I look up at the looming mansion in the dim glow of the lights around the property. So much is the same, but yet it feels different. The house isn't home anymore. It's just a place of bad memories and the fact that my father has never seen value in me, except when marrying me off to get money to settle his debts. I open the car door, stepping outside. When I reach back in to grab my things, I thank the older couple for the ride and tug my things out. They land on the paved driveway with a thump. No sooner than the door shuts, the front door opens and my brother comes running down the steps, nearly falling from how fast he comes down them. 'What are you doing here? Who are they?" He asks as he watches them pull around the loop to drive back down the driveway. 'A nice older couple who picked me up, that's who. Am I not welcome here?" He shakes his head and reaches out with both arms to pull me in for a hug. 'I'm so glad you're home, but what made you change your mind? Why didn't you call for us to come get you?" 'It's the middle of the night and I didn't really have time to call before coming." He finally looks down, taking in my attire. 'Why are you dressed in all black? Wait. Did you have to sneak out?" 'Something like that. Can we go inside?" I ask, then look back at the door, only to find my father standing there. He doesn't come down the steps, but motions for us to come inside. My brother helps me gather my things before we head for the stairs. Of course, as soon as I'm at the top and about to go through the doorway, my father stops me. 'You came home. I thought you had chosen him." 'I did, but I needed to come home. Is that okay with you?" His brows raise before he nods. 'Come inside." Once I'm in the foyer, one of the servants comes from the back of the living room and grabs my bags. 'You'll stay in your old room." 'Where is Tammy?" I ask, looking around the room. 'I thought she'd be the one who got my things." 'Tammy left us after you left. She couldn't stand staying here any longer," father says, his jaw ticking. 'I understood, considering she has helped raise you since you were little." I only nod before turning to follow the new servant back to my room. Neither my father or brother follow, which I find out, but I don't question it. They are who they are. We head up the stairs and down the long hallway. My bags are promptly dropped off inside my room and then I'm all alone. The door slams when the servant leaves, not even hearing my thank you nor do they give me their name. I head straight for the bathroom, not bothering with unpacking. When I turn, I catch sight of myself in the mirror and nearly faint. My long, dark strands look rough and are in disarray from traipsing through the woods. There are a few spots of dirt on my face that I'm not sure how they got there. I reach up, wiping at them, but quickly realize it would best to shower and get them off that way. My eyes lock on the shadows under them. I look so worn down and sad. There's not one smile to be seen. 'I thought I would be happier if I left, but I only feel hollow," I whisper to myself. I turn away from the mirror and head to the tub, slowly stripping out my clothes until nothing is left. My fingers tremble as I reach for the knob to turn on the water to fill the tub. The sound of it pelting against the bottom of the porcelain tub fills the room, but it feels too loud. I stand there, staring down at the splashing water as it fills at the bottom. It's then I feel tears rolling down my cheeks almost as quickly as the water from the faucet. A sob tears free of my throat. 'What have I done?" I ask myself before looking back at the door. 'Why did I leave him?" Fear. That is the first thought that comes to mind. I ran because I didn't know how to process everything. I ran because I was never taught how to deal with things like this. My father was a decent man, but a better businessman. At least, most of the time. Without my mother, he lost his empathy. It slowly drained out of him until there wasn't anything left, besides the debt he now was free of. My brother was there for me, though he was younger and it was more of me being there for him to help him. Tammy is gone, and she had been the only one who cared enough about me while I was here. Why did I ever think this was a good idea? What part of coming home made sense? This place lost its warmth about a year after my mother died. I look back down at the tub, looking at the ripping water as it gets fuller. My reflection is distorted and twisted as more water pours in. 'I can't stay here. Maybe for a day, but not forever."