The Hamilton house stood tall on the quiet side of town — clean white walls, trimmed hedges, and polished marble floors that echoed under every step. From the outside, it was perfect. Inside, it was cold.
Aria Hamilton, only 17 but already worn in spirit, sat alone at the edge of her queen-sized bed. The digital clock on her nightstand blinked 10:48 PM. She stared at the silence. It wasn’t new. This silence had become her nightly companion.
Her father was in South Africa, on another business trip. Her mother had flown to Abuja for a three-day conference. The house help, Miriam, had left by 4 PM. That was the rule. And Aria? She was here. Alone. Again.
The house had five bedrooms, a home office, a music room no one used, and a dining table that seated ten. But none of those things ever filled the emptiness inside her.
She scrolled through her phone — no new messages. She opened her mom’s chat and typed:
"Hey Mom, are you busy now? Please I want to talk to you.
She stared at it. Then she backspaced every word, sighed, and dropped the phone beside her. She wouldn’t reply anyway.
Her mother was a powerhouse — smart, beautiful, always perfectly dressed, and always somewhere else. Her father was the type of man people admired From something afar — charming, wealthy, respected. But at home, he was a stranger who smelled like imported cologne and boardrooms.
She lay back, staring at the ceiling. The silence pressed against her chest, heavy and familiar.
That silence had watched her grow up.
She remembered her fifteenth birthday. Sitting alone in that same room. Cake candles melting while staff sang half-heartedly. Her parents had called separately. Promises made. Apologies offered.
Always apologies. Never presence.
A tear slid into her hairline. She didn’t wipe it away.
She stood by the window and watched the house next door—warm lights, laughter, a family eating together. Someone’s father laughed loudly. Someone’s mother scolded gently.
Aria turned away before it broke her.
Her phone buzzed.
Mom: In a meeting. Talk later. Be a good girl.
Aria stared at the screen, her throat tightening.
YOU ARE READING
BROKEN TRUST
Teen FictionA quiet, emotionally gripping teen story about a 17-year-old girl whose loneliness makes her vulnerable, her silence nearly destroys her, and her courage becomes the beginning of healing. Written by Ahmed Khadijat Iman
