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Chapter 3 A HOME THAT ISN'T MINE

Word Count: 1167    |    Released on: 03/01/2026

he hallway. Marble floors reflected the dim light, and the walls were adorned with portraits of perfectly composed ancestors who seemed to sta

r's voice called fr

eplied, closing th

ering faintly in the lamplight. There was a note of satisfaction in her voice. "Dinner

ed to rise. "I'll eat later," she said quietl

ys seemed to sting. Sasha was on the phone, presumably recounting some triumph from her evening out. Every note o

, no matter how grueling, would never earn her the praise Sasha received naturally. Regina stared at the pile, her hands resting on her lap. She wanted to scream

oor startled her. "Re

s a small buffer between Regina and the family's c

ila said, holding out a small po

. She sipped slowly, letting the war

ed cautiously. "I mean... w

se seemed to understand the pressure she was under. "

Regina watched her go, wishing she could be that

ty lights shimmered like a promise she could never touch. Her mind wandered to her future-a hazy image clouded with doubt and fear. Every deci

lone made her

e. Regina's father entered her room with

your grades for this term. They're... adequate. But ade

der, Father," she said evenly, keeping her voice low. She knew that arguing was use

ation matters. Do not allow your personal feelings to interfere with your r

wanted to shout: *I am not Sasha!* But she stayed silent, biting

suffocating silence. She leaned back against the wall, trying to ground herself. Tears threatened

and effortless as ever, regaled the table with stories of her evening with the Gray family's influential collea

don't you tell us about your day? Or a

had lectures, Mama," she murmured,

ousehold. "You must learn, Regina, that one day people will judge you for your choices. You must

she would never be enough. She wanted to disappear, to vanish from the con

it often did, to thoughts of escape. Not physical escape-the Gray household had eyes everywhere-but emotional escape. A l

ching her from across the room u

ina

inscrutable expression. His eyes lingered for a moment too long, assessing, a

e asked c

smooth, almost casual, yet carrying a weight she couldn'

t the way he looked at her-like she wasn't invisible, like she wasn't ju

but before she could, the clock chimed, and

ry, now felt smaller, tighter, charged with a new tension. She picked up her pen, tried to

na wondered if maybe, just maybe, she wasn't

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