Ethan's sneakers scuffed softly against the hardwood stairs, a rapid, almost panicked rhythm that made Maya's eyes snap open. He was moving quickly, like a man trying to outrun the tension that had settled over the house like a storm cloud. She pushed herself upright in bed, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, heart already racing at the thought of the day ahead.
"Where do you think you're going?" she called sharply, her voice slicing through the quiet, a mix of frustration and exasperation.
Ethan froze mid-step, bag slung over his shoulder, eyes darting toward her. "I… I have to get out of here for a while," he said, voice tight, low. "Just… breathe, think. Don't want to blow up at anyone."
"You think leaving is breathing?" Maya snapped, her tone icy. "You're just running from the mess Dad left us in this morning! You're not facing anything if you vanish like that!"
"I am!" he countered quickly, his own temper flaring. "I just… I need a moment before I say something I'll regret!"
"You always need a moment! Everyone leaves me here to deal with your nonsense!" she shouted, stepping closer, fists clenched.
Ethan's jaw tightened. "I'm not leaving you! I just… need a second. I'll be back before you even notice!" Before she could respond, faint footsteps on the hardwood below startled him, and with a muttered, "I'll be back!" he bolted, slamming the door behind him.
Maya sank back onto her bed, a hiss of frustration escaping her lips. She could feel her blood pressure spike, every muscle taut with the surge of anger and helplessness.
"Maya," Linda's voice came from the stairs, calm but insistent. "Come down. Breakfast is ready. You can't just hide in your room."
"I'm not hungry," Maya muttered, gripping the blanket like a shield.
"You will be," her mother said, firm yet gentle, the kind of voice that left no room for argument. "Come down and just sit with us for a little while. That's all I ask."
Reluctantly, Maya pushed herself off the bed, brushing hair from her face, and descended slowly, muscles taut, every step measured, anger simmering just beneath the surface.
By the time she reached the kitchen, the tension in the room was palpable. Their father sat at the table, composed, calm, a presence that seemed to pull the air tighter around them. Sophie was perched on a stool nearby, small and seemingly timid, yet there was an edge to her posture, a quiet self-assuredness that dared anyone to challenge her.
"I'll be picking Sophie up after work," their father said evenly, his voice unshakable. "That's the routine for now. You don't need to agree. Just know what to expect."
Maya's chest tightened. "The whole day?" she asked, voice clipped, eyes narrowing.
"Yes," he said, calm and unyielding. "That will be the schedule."
Maya's lips pressed into a thin line, her hands flexing at her sides, fire burning quietly in her chest. She didn't speak further, instead letting her gaze settle on Sophie. The room fell into an intense silence, the air thick with unspoken resentment, until their eyes locked in a stare that carried the weight of a brewing storm.
Finally, Maya broke the silence. "You think standing there quietly makes you untouchable?" she asked, tone cold and hard. "You don't know me. You don't know what it means to live here, to be part of this family. Don't think for a second you belong in my space."
Sophie's eyes narrowed, the faintest smirk teasing her lips. "Oh, I know exactly who I am," she said softly, almost innocent at first, but with an edge that drew a line under her words. "I'm not scared of you, loud or angry. I've seen louder, bigger, and it doesn't matter. You think yelling makes you the boss here? I see right through it."
Maya blinked, disbelief and irritation flashing. "Excuse me?" she hissed.
Sophie leaned slightly forward, voice dropping with calculated coolness. "You're not special. You think this house, your life, your anger… it makes you untouchable? You're just… loud. And you think people respect that? I don't. I see a girl who's scared of being ordinary and hides it behind yelling and threats. That's all."
Maya's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Scared? You don't know the first thing about me, kid. You've been here what? A day? And you think you can come in and tell me I'm scared?"
Sophie's smirk widened, and she perched herself slightly higher on the stool, gaze unwavering. "You think I'm intimidated? That I'm a little kid who can't handle someone who's louder? Look at you...tense, sharp, so desperate to control everything. You're a mess behind that fire."
Maya's chest heaved, words catching in her throat, but anger pushed them out. "A mess? At least I live here. At least I have a place I belong in. You… you're just trying to act like you matter, like you have any right to dictate anything in this house."
Sophie's eyes sparkled, unflinching. "Right? Right! Maybe I don't have a place yet, but I don't act like I own the world. I just… exist. I don't need to make everyone scared of me. I don't need to scream to prove I'm more than a stranger."
Maya's jaw tightened, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "You think you can talk to me like that? You're a child!"
"Child?" Sophie echoed, voice sharp and low. "Maybe. But even children see the truth. You think you're untouchable, unshakable… you're not. You're loud, yes. Angry, yes. But I see the cracks. And I'm not afraid of them."
The room fell into tense silence, the morning sunlight cutting across the table like a spotlight on the battle of wills. Maya's hands clenched into fists, her entire body vibrating with the fire of frustration, humiliation, and fury -- but Sophie remained calm, almost defiant, unshaken by the storm raging across from her.
Linda's voice cut through the tension, calm but commanding. "Enough, both of you. Sit down. Eat. This is not how you start your day."
Maya glared at Sophie one last time, lips pressing into a tight line, the fire of her anger still smoldering. Sophie, equally unyielding, met her gaze without faltering, the sharp glint of defiance and a hint of mischief lingering in her eyes.
Tessa, watching from the side, tilted her head, whispering quietly to herself, "It's like seeing Maya's mini version."
Neither Maya nor Sophie responded, but the glance exchanged carried volumes -- anger, fire, and a fierce unwillingness to yield. The day ahead promised battles yet to be fought, insults yet to be hurled, and a simmering rivalry that refused to be extinguished. The air between them crackled, heavy and electric, as if the house itself held its breath, anticipating the next move.