The sound of laughter echoed through the small cottage
but it never reached Elena.
She stood quietly by the hearth, scooping porridge into chipped wooden bowls, careful not to spill a drop. She always served herself last. Not that anyone ever noticed.
"Elena," her stepmother snapped from the table, "you missed a spot."
Elena flinched and scrubbed at the invisible stain on the counter. Across the table, Lilith—her golden-haired stepsister—smirked, daintily sipping tea like a noble.
"You're always so quiet," Lilith said sweetly. "It's like you're not even here."
Because I'm not, Elena thought. Not really. Not to them.
Her father didn't even glance at her. He was too busy drinking. Again.
When the meal ended, Elena cleaned up as the others slipped away, their laughter fading into the night. Her fingers were raw and red by the time she finished scrubbing the dishes.
She didn't complain. She never did.
---
Outside, the moon hung low and full, casting silver light over the hills.
She ran barefoot past the orchard, her skirt catching on weeds, until she reached the willow tree. Her secret place. Their place.
And he was already there.
Liam.
The blacksmith's apprentice. Dirt under his nails, soot on his clothes, and a smile that made the world feel less cruel.
"I thought you wouldn't come," he said, pushing off the tree.
"I always come," she whispered.
He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're too good for them, you know. One day, you're going to leave that house and never look back."
She tried to smile. "And go where?"
He grinned. "With me. I'll open my forge. You'll sell herbs like you always dreamed. We'll get a dog. And a little place just outside the village, with space to breathe."
For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine it. Freedom. Warmth. Love.
He leaned in, slowly, hesitantly—
And their lips met.
It was soft. Innocent. The kind of kiss that made you believe in things you had no right to.
"Elena!" her name shattered in the wind. Lilith's voice.
Elena broke the kiss, breathless.
"I have to go."
"I'll wait," he said.
But she didn't know then, as she ran back toward the cottage, that time was already running out.
---
The next day passed in silence.
Lilith and their stepmother whispered behind closed doors. Her father disappeared to town, muttering about debts and business. No one shouted. No one hit her. And that made it worse.
It felt like the air just before a storm.
Elena tried to shake it off, tried to cling to Liam's promise. He kissed her. He meant it.
Didn't he?
That night, she sat by the window with a candle, waiting for the sound of his footsteps. But they never came.
.knnThe next morning arrived like any other—gray skies, stale bread, and silence.
Elena swept the cottage floor, her back aching, the wooden broom stiff in her callused hands. The room felt colder than usual. Emptier.
Her father had left before dawn. Lilith hadn't come down from her room. Her stepmother stood by the window, staring into the woods with a blank expression.
Elena broke the silence. "Do you want me to fetch water?"
Her stepmother turned, eyes narrowed. "No. Just stay inside today."
That was strange.
She always wanted Elena out of the house. Out of sight.
---
By midday, Elena slipped out anyway.
She needed to see Liam. Needed to feel normal. Needed to be reminded that not everyone treated her like dirt.
But when she reached the smithy, the forge was cold. The tools were untouched. No smoke. No heat.
No Liam.
"Looking for someone?" asked the butcher's wife, peering at her from across the path.
Elena nodded, heart sinking. "Liam. Have you seen him?"
The woman frowned. "Not since yesterday morning. Thought he went to your cottage. That boy's always mooning over you."
Elena forced a smile. "He didn't come."
She wandered the village, calling his name softly down alleyways, checking their willow tree. Still nothing.
Something was wrong. She could feel it.
---
That night, the cottage was too quiet again.
Lilith hummed as she brushed her golden curls by the fireplace. Her stepmother sewed in the corner, needle flashing in the firelight.
Elena sat by the door, clutching a worn blanket around her shoulders.
"Liam didn't meet me," she said, not really meaning to speak it aloud.
Lilith's humming stopped.
Their stepmother's needle froze mid-stitch.
Then—
"I'm sure he's just busy," Lilith said too quickly. "Boys like him don't stay in one place for long."
Elena frowned. "You don't know him."
Lilith smiled without warmth. "I know men."
Something twisted in Elena's gut.
She rose from the floor and backed toward the stairs.
"You should get some sleep," her stepmother said. "Tomorrow… you'll have a long day."
Elena blinked. "Why?"
But they didn't answer.
---
That night, she barely slept.
Her window creaked open in the wind. The moonlight painted the floor in silver streaks. Somewhere in the woods, wolves howled.
She dreamt of chains and blood.
Of a voice calling her name—
But when she woke, the world was silent.
And Liam was still gone