A lady stood in front of a pile of dishes in the sink. She was washing when she stopped abruptly — her face suddenly turning pale. The vitality that once glowed inside her quickly gave way, leaving only a frail being struggling to keep still. Her lips shook violently, her eyes were bloodshot, sweat streaming down her forehead as she vibrated uncontrollably.
"N-No!! No..." she muttered. "Not this again."
Her voice grew weak as she tried to steady herself, gripping the edge of the sink — the only thing keeping her from collapsing to the floor.
"Why does it keep coming back?" she complained, pressing a hand over her thumping chest.
Gasp...Heart beats rapidly...Pupils contracting...Eyes open and close involuntarily...
Then a hurtful scene began to play through her mind — even when she hated being reminded of the past.
"Vanessa!" came the loud, angry voice of her father, Mr. Victor.
Vanessa rushed to answer.
"Dad, you called for me?" she asked, uneasy. The tension in the air was thick — she could feel it. Her heart thumped rapidly. A voice inside her head chanted, run, run, run... but she remained frozen. No matter how hard she tried, it was as if her legs were tied to the floor by invisible rope.
"You shameless child!" Katrina, her stepmother, immediately began raining insults on Vanessa. "How disgraceful can you be!"
What's going on? What have I done this time? Vanessa wondered, completely clueless.
"Woman! Shut that mouth of yours!" Mr. Victor snapped. "Who asked you to speak?"
Katrina had the urge to say more but swallowed hard. It would be a death wish to provoke the already enraged man any further. She quietly retreated.
"What is this?!" Mr. Victor erupted, his fury barely contained. "Answer me!" He waved a pregnancy test in front of Vanessa's face — two red bars clearly visible.
Vanessa shook her head in disbelief, slowly stepping backward.
I was careful when I threw it away earlier today. I didn't even look at it long enough to see the result — so how did he get his hands on it?
Her eyes drifted briefly toward Katrina and Katelyn. It had to be those two. She had no proof, but her gut said otherwise. Her throat suddenly felt bone dry.
"I asked you a question," Mr. Victor said again, his voice dropping low this time — which somehow made it more terrifying than the shouting. It carried a single, clear warning: don't test me.
"Vanessa..." he said again, quiet as a threat.
"Dad—" she struggled to get the words out.
Katrina, surprised by her husband's outburst, had already slipped into a corner with her daughter Katelyn to watch the scene unfold. She was more than pleased to see Vanessa like this. Mr. Victor was too consumed by his rage to notice the grin spreading across his wife's face or the quiet scoff from Katelyn.
"Dad, please — let me explain," Vanessa said, her voice barely holding. "It's not what you think."
"So you're pregnant after all," he said — not a question, but a confirmation, soaked in disappointment.
He rose from the sofa, hands crossed behind his back, gripping something Vanessa couldn't quite make out. A cane, maybe. Something else. He moved toward her slowly, each step making her flinch. She wished the floor would crack open and swallow her whole rather than face whatever was coming next.
"You are truly your mother's daughter," he said bitterly, pausing mid-step as if weighing his next move.
"Dad, please don't drag Mom into this," Vanessa shot back, unable to hold it in any longer. Why did he always bring her mother's name into everything? "It's me you have a problem with — not Mom. You need to learn to forgive. The past is the past."
Mr. Victor stared at her for a long, still moment.
Then he laughed.
It was sudden and jarring — and every pair of eyes in the room darted to one another in confusion. He laughed again, louder. No one understood what was funny. Nothing about this was funny.
But to him, it all made sense in a painful, bitter kind of way. Twenty years ago, Victoria had stood in that same exact spot — playing the victim, holding her ground, staring him down with those same eyes. And now, looking at his daughter, he felt it all over again.
He felt Mocked.