Chloe felt as if she had been plunged back into a nightmare she thought she’d long since woken from. Isabella, the mother who had shunned her over a birthmark, the woman who had subjected her to daily abuse and once attempted to cut her to ribbons, sat plain before her. Chloe’s mind reeled, unable to grasp the situation. Her legs, trembling, refused to obey her desperate urge to flee.
“I know what you’re thinking, dear,” Isabella said with a mocking croon. “You’re wondering, ‘How did she find me?’” A smug smile crept across her face. “It’s simple. Lily mentioned a shop you frequent. Following you from there was easy.”
Chloe recalled the unsettling sensation of being watched in the park days earlier—it must have been her.
Isabella rose and began to approach. As her mother drew closer, Chloe noted the stark changes in her appearance. She seemed older, frailer, her eyes now hollow, the life they once held extinguished.
Stopping just within reach, Isabella loomed over Chloe.
Chloe finally found her voice. “Why...are you here?” she managed to say.
Isabella’s face twitched. “Why, you’ve grown uppity, haven’t you? Why am I here? Isn’t it obvious?” Her hand reached into her dress, withdrawing a concealed knife.
Chloe’s face paled at the sight. That knife—it was the very one she used for cooking.
“I’m here to end your life, you wretched girl!” Isabella’s scream was piercing, loud enough to shatter glass. She raised the knife high above her head.
Memories of that harrowing day surged in Chloe’s mind—the image of that same knife poised to strike. In a rush of adrenaline, her paralysis shattered. Shifting her weight, Chloe fell to the side, narrowly evading the knife’s deadly arc. The added weight of her pack accelerated her fall, enabling her to escape unscathed.
Isabella, having committed her full weight to the swing, continued her momentum and crashed into the kitchen. She collided with the dish cabinet, dislodging porcelain plates that crashed down around her in a chaotic cascade.
Chloe shrugged off her rucksack, dropping it to the ground. “Mother, stop! It doesn’t have to be this way!”
“Silence, you wretch!” Isabella bellowed over her shoulder, her glare piercing Chloe, a trickle of blood staining her face. “Do you even know the trouble you’ve caused? Lily’s imprisoned in a vile dungeon; I was summoned to the capital for your hearing—do you understand the consequences for me if you testify? I’ll be labeled a criminal, incarcerated for the rest of my life. I won’t let that happen!”
The vitriol in Isabella’s voice left Chloe speechless. Isabella’s gaze grew distant, her ramblings increasingly deranged. “If you’re dead, you can’t testify, and if you can’t testify, I won’t face punishment. Yes, if I just kill you, all will be resolved!”
Finally, Chloe understood the motive behind Isabella’s actions. The hearing, initially concerning Lily’s crimes, now implicated Isabella too. Chloe’s testimony could expose the abuse she suffered in Shadaf, leaving her mother in a grim position. Isabella’s twisted solution was clear—silence Chloe permanently.
Insane... She’s insane... Chloe thought. “Mother, please, will you listen to me!” Chloe cried out, a desperate attempt to inject reason into Isabella’s frenzied state. “Killing me won’t solve your problems. It will only make things worse!”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Isabella’s rage boiled over as she stomped her feet. “This is your fault! If you hadn’t fled, none of this would’ve happened! You’re a curse; you’ve brought calamity upon us all! If only you’d never been born... If only I’d never conceived you at all!”
Chloe’s pleas couldn’t have fallen on deafer ears. Isabella had lost her grip entirely. The city guards weren’t incompetent—if Chloe was found dead today, Isabella would be apprehended tomorrow. Yet, even with this imminent threat, Isabella’s madness drove her to violence. There was no reasoning with her.
“Die!!!” Isabella lunged, her eyes ablaze with hatred, brandishing the knife again.
“No!” Chloe screamed. In her frantic attempt to retreat, she stumbled, not quick enough to fully evade the attack. The blade slashed her arm, drawing a sharp cry from her as she collapsed. Looking up, she saw Isabella poised to strike again, the knife swooping down. Chloe rolled to the right just in time; the knife thudded into the floorboards. Seizing the moment, Chloe thought, Now! Escape while the knife is stuck! But as Chloe struggled to rise, Isabella delivered a brutal kick to her side. Air burst from Chloe’s lungs as she crumpled to the floor, curling in agony.
“You really think I’d fall for that again?” Isabella taunted, sneering.
Pain immobilized Chloe as Isabella wrenched the knife free. She loomed over Chloe, her face twisted in hatred. Chloe’s body refused to cooperate. The situation was dire. “Help... Lloyd...” she whispered faintly.
Isabella erupted in mocking laughter. “Hah! He won’t be coming! I made sure to find out—he doesn’t return until the evening!” Her gloating words deepened Chloe’s hopelessness.
Chloe knew the truth. Lloyd was at the castle; he never came home at this hour. Reality was harsh, devoid of fairy-tale rescues. Lloyd had always saved her by the skin of his teeth before, but it seemed her luck had finally run short.
“Your knight in shining armor isn’t here to save you now! You’re helpless; accept your fate and die!” Isabella stood triumphant, reveling in her perceived victory, lost in her delusional monologue.
As the word “die” echoed in her mind, a spark ignited within Chloe.
I’m going to die—now? After all my struggles to reach the capital? After finding a haven of peace? After Lloyd and I discovered love in each other’s embrace? After his proposal? The thoughts raced through her mind, a flurry of disbelief and defiance. Her life, just beginning to bloom with happiness, was on the brink of being snatched away. The old Chloe—the cursed child—might have surrendered, accepting this grim fate as the curse of her existence.
But not anymore.
“I will not—cannot let it end here...”
A newfound strength surged through her limbs. The same spirit that had flickered to life when Lily kidnapped her, the first time she had defied her oppressive life, now burned brighter. Slowly, Chloe rose from the ground, locking her gaze with Isabella’s.
“What’s with that look?” Isabella sneered. The resilience still shining in Chloe’s eyes inflamed her down to her soul.
Up until now, I relied on Lloyd to save me.
In the park against those thugs, against Luke’s uncomfortable advances, when Lily had kidnapped her—on each and every occasion, she had never been able to resolve the situation on her own.
When will I stand up for myself?
As that flame of determination blazed within her, she noticed the paralyzing stiffness no longer claimed her body. A revelation dawned upon her: she had been conditioned to fear Isabella. Her mother had always been a looming, oppressive presence—punishing disobedience with physical abuse and mistakes with harsh words. It had etched an overriding fear of recrimination into the core of her being; the mere sight of her mother spurred her to obedience in the hope that she might avoid more pain. But now Chloe saw Isabella with brilliant, piercing clarity: a frail, elderly woman, inept with the knife in her hand. Chloe, younger and physically stronger, her mind fortified by recent trials, realized the odds were in her favor.
“Stop looking at me like that... Stop looking at me like that!” Isabella screeched in desperation.
Chloe, undeterred, took a deep, steadying breath. She recalled Lloyd’s words:
It’s more about courage than technique.
Fear not your opponent’s blade. Fear impairs the mind, hobbles the body. Once fear is removed, you can analyze and counter your opponent’s actions effectively.
Her body a calm and empty vessel now, Chloe focused intently on Isabella’s knife.
Isabella made her move. “Die!” she cried, lunging forward, brandishing the knife.
This time Chloe was ready. Her eyes keenly tracked the trajectory of the blade. With a swift, calculated sidestep, she evaded Isabella’s swing.
“What?!” Isabella’s exclamation was one of sheer disbelief.
Chloe had created an opening. She sifted through her memories, searching for what Lloyd would do after evading an attack. Then it clicked—counterattack!
Isabella was no skilled fighter; her failed strike had left her vulnerable. Seizing the opportunity, Chloe wheeled in a brutal pirouette and sent Isabella’s frail body hurtling to the ground with a keenly aimed kick.
As Isabella cried out from the impact, Chloe quickly backed away, opening up space between them. Her foot snagged on something—her rucksack full of groceries. Stopping there, she slowly turned to gauge Isabella’s reaction. Shock was etched across her face: disbelief that Chloe, the daughter who had never dared to defy her, had actually fought back.
But shock swiftly turned to fury. “You dare, you dare, you dare, you dare to fight back against me!” Isabella shouted, scrambling to her feet and pointing the knife at Chloe again. “Why won’t you just die?!” With that hoarse battle cry, she lunged at Chloe. Her knife, swift and unerring, plunged deep—not into human flesh, but the cold, rubbery innards of a whole raw turkey.
Isabella’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Wha—?!”
Chloe stood defiant. Lloyd’s advice reverberated in her mind: Real combat situations are unpredictable. Random obstacles, places to hide, things of that sort. You must be constantly aware of your environment, ready to adapt and use whatever is at hand.
Her hands still grasping the knife’s handle, Isabella stared in disbelief at the scene before her. The blade was firmly lodged in the turkey’s prodigious girth, rendering it harmless. “L-Let go, let go!” Isabella demanded, struggling to free the knife; Chloe pressed against her, denying her leverage. With a determined yank, Chloe twisted the turkey, wrenching the knife from Isabella’s grasp. Isabella yelped in pain, clutching her wrist. “You dare mock me! Give back the knife—give it back now!”
“No!” Chloe’s refusal was resolute.
“Y-You cursed child!”
“I am not cursed!”
With a scream that echoed the depth of her spirit, Chloe shattered the epithet that had haunted her for sixteen long years.
“My name is Chloe! I am not your cursed child!”