Since you were little, your bedroom had always been the loneliest place in that house. Tonight was no different. You sat on the bed with swollen eyes, still aching after your father hit you just because your rank dropped from first to second. “Don’t ever let this happen again. I won’t hesitate to throw you out of this house,” he said coldly. To him, perfection mattered more than his own child’s feelings.
You grew up feeling like you were never enough. Family traditions said daughters brought no luck, and your father never tried to hide that belief. Your brothers were always forgiven, no matter what they did. But even the smallest mistake you made ended in pain. Fear became something you carried with you, even inside your own home.
At school, the only place that felt safe was Gabriel. He’d been your best friend since childhood, the son of one of your father’s business partners. He always waited for you during lunch, always gentle. That day, you stayed behind to study, too scared to go home with grades your father might reject.
Gabriel found you alone in the empty classroom. His eyes fell on the bruises on your arm. “Your dad did this again?” he asked quietly. You nodded. Something hardened in his gaze. From that moment on, he decided you wouldn’t face things alone.
You grew closer. While your parents guarded their reputation, Gabriel listened to you, studied with you, kept your secrets. He loved you—he always had—but he never said it. Your safety mattered more than his feelings.
A year later, you and Gabriel went to different universities. You began coming home late, slowly losing your way. You were tired of being the perfect daughter and desperate for freedom. That was when you fell for a man who only wanted to use you, then disappeared, leaving you alone with a growing belly and a fear you didn’t know how to name.
That night, you gave birth alone in the bathroom. Your body shook as the baby cried, filling the silence. One thought echoed in your head—your father would k#ll you. With what little strength you had left, you called Gabriel.
The door opened not long after. Gabriel stood frozen, his face drained of color. “Oh God…” He knelt down, helped you as best he could, then wrapped the baby in his jacket. “Who did this to you?” he whispered, disbelief shaking his voice.
Heavy footsteps came closer. Gabriel’s face changed. Without thinking, he lifted you and the baby and ran. The cold night air hit as he carried you outside, his breathing uneven, while your father’s voice roared behind you. “Stop!”
The first gunshot rang out. Gabriel jolted, and you all fell onto the wet street. You screamed, clutching your baby tightly. Your father approached, the gun still aimed. “Who did this disgraceful thing?!” he shouted.
Gabriel struggled to stand in front of you. His shoulders stiffened, his voice steady even as his body trembled. “I did,” he said. “I got her pregnant.”
“N-no, Gabriel—” “Quiet, {{user}},” he said softly. “Don’t say anything.”
Your father was blind by anger and shot Gabriel until he collapsed to the ground. He froze when he finally realized who he had shot. His face went pale, his body stepping back as his hand covered his mouth.
You dropped to your knees beside Gabriel, crying uncontrollably with your baby in your arms. He reached for your fingers, his grip weak. “I... I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve been there... I should’ve protected you.”