I had locked myself in my room after Elena's slap earlier. My cheek still burned in a dull, throbbing pulse, but it wasn't the sting that made me want to drive my fist into the wall.
It was the look on my parents' faces when she lied.
The way they swallowed her words whole like they'd been waiting for an excuse to believe the worst about me.
According to her, I'd "shoved her around" and "disrespected the family again."
Not a single word about how she barged in here uninvited.
Nothing about the cheap, cruel little comments she'd made until my temper snapped.
No—she was the golden one. She could rewrite the scene however she wanted.
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The murmur of voices downstairs floated up, muffled, constant. My pulse was loud in my ears, heavier than the ticking of the clock on my nightstand. I knew sooner or later one of them would come up to "talk."
The knock, when it came, wasn't my mother's. Hers was always a fake-gentle rhythm. This one was sharp, heavy.
The door didn't wait for an answer.
Cassian stepped inside, blocking half the hallway light. Still in workout gear, patches of sweat darkening the collar, he filled the room with the same storm-grey glare I'd seen from Dad a thousand times.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" His voice hit like a punch before any actual blow had landed.
I sat up slowly, my tone flat. "Nice to see you too, Cassian."
The door slammed behind him, hard enough that my spine flinched. "Don't play smart with me. You embarrassed Elena in front of Mom and Dad. Do you know how that looks? They had to explain to the neighbors why you were shouting like a lunatic in the middle of the night."
I blinked at him. "Oh, so now I'm crazy? She hit me."
Cassian snorted, arms crossing. "Because you pushed her."
"I didn't—" My voice cracked, frustration tightening my throat. "She came into my room looking for a fight. She accused me of " I stopped. It didn't matter what I said. He wasn't here to hear it.
"You never take responsibility," he shot back. "You're always the victim in your little head. You're a constant problem for this family, Sky."
Something inside me knotted tight. "Because I don't roll over and do whatever they say? Because I want to live my own life instead of being a puppet?"
He stepped closer, shadow falling over me. "Because you make everything about you."
I stood up, my pulse hammering so hard it made my fingers tingle. "Maybe it is about me for once. I'm sick of following rules that only seem to apply to me, not to Elena. I'm sick of being the 'disappointment' just because I don't play perfect child."
His jaw flexed. "Don't talk about Elena like that."
"I'll talk about her however I—"
The crack came so fast I didn't even see his arm move.
My head snapped to the side. A copper taste filled my mouth.
Cassian had slapped me.
My brother. The same brother who used to walk me to school so older boys wouldn't bother me. The same brother I thought I could trust .
For a second, my brain just refused to process it. My eyes stung, not from pain, but because something in me had just split clean down the middle.
"You " My voice was barely a whisper. "You just hit me."
Something flickered across his face—guilt, maybe—but it vanished before I could be sure. "You pushed me to it."
A laugh ripped out of me, bitter and shaky. "Wow. You sound exactly like them."
The door swung open again.
My mother stood there, arms folded, lips pressed thin. My father's bulk loomed behind her.
"What's going on here?" Dad's voice was sharp, more irritated than concerned.
"Cassian hit me," I said, my voice trembling with rage.
My mother's brows drew together, but not in sympathy. "Because you provoked him, no doubt."
It felt like my stomach just dropped out of my body. "Are you serious? He hit me. And you're taking his side?"
Dad's tone was colder than the night air seeping through my window. "Enough. We've had it with your behavior. You've been combative, disrespectful, and unwilling to follow this household's rules."
"Rules?" I laughed once, sharp and humorless. "You mean control. You mean making sure I stay in the box you built for me. I can't even pick my own major without it turning into a war."
Mom shook her head. "We want what's best for you "
"No." My voice cut through hers. "You want what's best for you."
Cassian's eyes stayed on the floor now. No apology. No defense.
Dad's voice was final. "You will apologize to your brother and sister, and you will stop this nonsense about medicine. We've arranged for you to attend the political sciences program…"
"I'm not doing it." The words came out hot, unfiltered. "I'm not wasting my life living the one you scripted. I'd rather be on my own."
Dad's face hardened. "Then maybe you should be."
Silence roared in my ears.
"Fine," I said, my voice breaking only slightly. "I will."
I turned to my closet, yanked out the first suitcase I could grab, and slammed it onto the bed.
"Skylar—don't be ridiculous," Mom snapped.
But I was already pulling clothes from hangers, shoving them in without folding. My hands shook, but not from fear. This was adrenaline. This was years of swallowed words tearing free all at once.
They just stood there. Watching. Arguing with each other in low, sharp bursts. I kept packing.
When the zipper finally scraped shut, I looked at them. "You don't have to worry about me anymore. No more problems. No more embarrassment."
Mom's mouth tightened. "Where will you even go?"
I shrugged, gripping the handle. "Anywhere that isn't here."
Cassian finally spoke, voice low. "Sky…"
"Don't." I didn't look at him. "You made your choice."
I brushed past them, suitcase wheels bumping on the stairs. Their eyes followed me all the way down, but I didn't slow.
At the front door, I stopped just long enough to take one last breath of the air inside this house. The smell of my mother's cooking from years ago still seemed to live in the walls. The sound of Dad's laugh from nights when things were simpler ghosted through my memory.
But home wasn't supposed to hurt like this.
I wasn't going to take my suitcase for real. I left it in front of the door and only took my purse.
I opened the door. The cool night air wrapped around me like something alive, sharp and real and mine.
For t
he first time in years, I didn't feel like I owed anyone an explanation.
I stepped out.
And I didn't look back.