Silent Scars

CHAPTER 11

Luca stood outside Aria’s door, his hand poised to knock. He hesitated outside Aria's door for the second time that day. He was staring at the wood as if it held answers he couldn’t find. The house was quiet now, save for the faint creaks of the floorboards beneath his feet.

He’d been thinking about her all evening.

She didn’t even finish her dinner.

He thought, his brow furrowing.

She barely looked up, barely spoke. What kind of life has she lived? Why does she seem so afraid of everything?

He strained his ears for any sound from the other side of the door. Nothing. After a moment, he let his hand fall.

Maybe she’s asleep. He reasoned.

She’d had a long day, being pulled out of her class, brought to this house full of strangers, and sitting through an awkward dinner where everyone seemed too tense to breathe.

Reluctantly, Luca turned and walked away.

I’ll talk to her tomorrow. He decided. Maybe she’ll feel more comfortable then. Maybe she’ll let me in. 

Downstairs, Marcus sat on the edge of the couch, his arms folded tightly across his chest. The soft glow of the lamp cast shadows across his face, but his sharp gaze remained fixed on the floor. The evening replayed in his mind.

Her silence, the unease in her demeanor, the way she seemed to fold into herself as though trying to disappear. She didn’t belong here. At least, not yet.

“She’s not asleep”

Marcus muttered, breaking the silence. 

Leonardo stood by the window, his hands buried in his pockets as he stared into the night. He didn’t look up. “

What do you want me to do about it?” 

Marcus exhaled sharply through his nose, shifting his weight.

“I don’t know.”

He admitted, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain.

“You usually have the answers.” 

Leonardo’s jaw tightened, his shoulders stiffening.

“Not this time.” 

Marcus turned to his brother, frustration flickering in his eyes.

“She’s here, in our house. What if she’s lying? What if she’s not who she says she is?” 

Finally, Leonardo turned, his dark gaze locking onto Marcus.

“You think I haven’t considered that? You think I don’t have every reason to doubt her?”

His voice was low, sharp, carrying the weight of something unspoken. 

Marcus hesitated, caught off guard by the edge in Leonardo’s tone. 

Leonardo’s voice softened but remained firm.

“People I trusted, people close to me, have betrayed me before. I’m not about to trust a stranger just because some test says she’s family.” 

Marcus fell silent, the weight of Leonardo’s words settling over him. For once, both brothers were at a loss, their certainty slipping through their fingers like sand. 

Upstairs, Aria had fallen into a restless sleep, her body curled into itself like a shield. But the fragile peace of the night didn’t last. 

At 3 a.m, she jolted awake, her chest heaving as her eyes darted around the room. The darkness pressed in on her, suffocating and thick. She gripped the sheets tightly, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. 

The nightmare clung to her like a shadow she couldn’t shake. She’d been back in that small, suffocating house, the air heavy with tension. Her stepfather’s voice boomed in her ears, each word like a slap. 

“You're worthless."

He’d snarled, his face inches from hers. She tried to shrink away, but her feet were rooted to the floor. His hand shot out, gripping her arm with bruising force. She felt the sharp sting of his anger, a pain that reverberated deep into her bones. 
Her mother was there too, standing silently in the corner, her face a blank mask. Aria had called out to her, begged her to intervene, but she didn’t move. She never did. 
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The dream blurred into chaos, a flash of pain, the sound of a door slamming, the echo of her own silent cries. She was trapped, alone, suffocating under the weight of their hatred. 

When she woke, her body was drenched in sweat, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She clutched her knees to her chest, rocking slightly, trying to steady her breathing. But no matter how hard she tried, the fear wouldn’t leave her. 

The silence of the room pressed down on her, amplifying her panic. Her ribs ached, the phantom pain of a memory she couldn’t escape. Her chest felt tight, as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air. 

The coolness of the sheets against her damp skin slowly brought her back to the present. She blinked, her gaze drifting toward the faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains. It was still dark outside, the house silent, unmoving. 

But the nightmare lingered, its claws buried deep in her mind. She sat on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped around her legs, her body trembling slightly. 

𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

That thought came unbidden, and it echoed loudly in her head. She didn’t belong in this house, with these people. Not with their sharp eyes and probing questions. Not with their doubts. 

But more than that, she didn’t belong anywhere. 

Aria stared out the window, the moonlight softening the edges of the room. The fear still thrummed in her chest, a steady ache she couldn’t quite ignore. She didn’t know what to do with it, didn’t know how to make it go away. 

Sleep was out of the question. Instead, she sat there in the stillness, the storm of fear and memories raging inside her. 

All she wanted was to feel safe.