Chapter 4: No More Chains

Back at the house, Matthew was already up. Two breakfasts sat on the table—I didn’t know if one was for me. I stood, unsure.

“What? Does Miss Parker need a special invitation to eat?”

His voice was sharp.

I hurried to sit, quietly picking at my food. I kept my head down.

The eggs were cold, the toast dry, but I ate anyway. Grateful for small mercies.

Matthew’s parents were both teachers, strict about manners—no talking at meals or before bed. I’d grown up with no such rules. I used to chatter nonstop at the table, dragging Matthew into conversation. Eventually, that rule went out the window. But now, as a guest in his house, I kept quiet.

I chewed slowly, the silence pressing in on me. Didn’t feel like home.

Breakfast was tasteless. When I finished, I instinctively started to speak:

“I found…”

Old habits die hard.

Before I could finish, Matthew smirked, as if he’d expected it. He was waiting for it.

“Why pretend to be all proper? Just say what you want.”

His eyes glittered with challenge, daring me to drop the act. I hesitated, weighing my words carefully. I tried to sound steady.

I hesitated, then said, “I found a job. Room and board included, and the pay’s enough for me. Thank you for letting me stay, but I can’t keep freeloading. If it’s not too much trouble, could you have the driver take me? It’s hard to get a cab out here.”

Matthew’s face darkened. He slammed his fork onto the plate. His words stung.

“You’re a convict fresh out of prison. Who’d hire you? Don’t be so naive you end up getting used by the very people who’d sell you out.”

His words were harsh, but there was a hint of worry beneath the anger. Did he even realize it?

I didn’t know why he was so angry. I spoke carefully. I just wanted a chance.

“It’s a woman I met in prison. She told me to contact her when I got out.”

I looked up, hoping he’d understand. I owed Lisa.

Matthew looked even angrier, like he’d swallowed a firecracker. His voice was bitter.

“What kind of decent person can you meet in prison?”

I flinched, but held my ground. I owed Lisa that much.

I tried to explain that Lisa was a good person, but he only got more upset and suddenly stood up. His chair screeched on the floor as he looked down at me, sneering. I held my chin high.

“Fine. I’ll give it a few days. Let’s see how long a pampered princess like you lasts before you come crying to be taken back. I should’ve made you suffer more in prison—maybe then you wouldn’t be so naive. It’s not even that far from the house to the road. If you can’t handle this, how are you going to be independent?”

He looked at me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve, shaking his head in disbelief. The words stung, but I held my chin high, refusing to let him see me break.

So he’d planned it all? Is that why I was always singled out in prison?

Was I always a burden to him? The realization settled in my gut, cold and heavy. I wondered if he’d ever see me as anything more than a burden, or if I’d ever be free of his shadow.

Either way, I was done letting him write my story.