Waiting For Home

"Done primping, you useless thing? Get in here and watch your brother!" Maude's screech shattered the quiet moment in front of the cracked mirror.

Before the seven-year-old could lower her thin arms, Maude's thick fingers tangled into the dark, freshly braided hair. A sharp yank jerked Cordelia backward. Pain radiated across her scalp, forcing a gasp from her chapped lips. A heavy boot caught her square in the spine. The brutal kick sent the fragile girl sprawling face-first toward the filthy earth of the yard.

Instinct took over before she hit the ground. Cordelia threw her raw, blistered hands up, letting her palms take the harsh, bleeding scrape of the dirt. She tucked her chin, shielding her cheeks and forehead from the sharp rocks.

"I cannot let my face get scarred," she murmured to the dust, her breath hitching. "Mom and Dad will not recognize me when I finally go home."

The memory stream blurred, shifting through an agonizing nightmare of endless days. There was no school, no rest, only backbreaking chores. The small, malnourished girl hauled buckets of water heavier than herself, scrubbed mountains of soiled laundry until her knuckles bled, and tended to the muddy livestock.

Whenever Maude's toddler let out a cry, rage contorted the trafficker's heavy features.

"Worthless brat! Cannot even keep him quiet?" Maude bellowed, storming out of the kitchen. She grabbed a thick wooden stick from the woodpile. "I will beat the life right out of you!"

The heavy wood swung down on Cordelia's tiny frame. She curled into a tight ball, absorbing the punishing blows on her shoulders and back. Maude struck her again and again, leaving her gasping for air. When the trafficker grew tired, she grabbed the bruised child by the collar and dragged her across the yard. Maude shoved her into the pitch-black cattle pen, locking the gate to leave her to starve through the freezing night.

In the high-tech penthouse studio, the live broadcast of these agonizing, deeply personal memories filled the room with suffocating tension. Gideon stood rigid before the glowing screens. His jaw clenched tight, and he physically trembled with explosive fury at the sight of the battered child shivering in the dark. He wanted to break the glass.

Yet, a glance across the room revealed a stark contrast. Declan and Ronan remained chillingly indifferent. They watched the abuse with icy detachment, their expressions carved from stone. To the two brothers, her past agony meant nothing. They saw no innocent victim in that cattle pen. In their minds, she was merely a despicable criminal, a cruel manipulator who had long since forfeited any fundamental right to their sympathy.

Time shifted abruptly on the screens, bringing a sudden influx of chaos. The heavy wooden gate of the pen swung open in the daylight, and a new captive stumbled inside.

Sabrina Croft.

Unlike the broken, dirt-covered Cordelia, the newcomer wore pristine, expensive clothing. Radiant with misplaced confidence, Sabrina dusted off her knees and lifted her chin.

"Do not worry," the wealthy girl declared loudly, puffing her chest out. "My dad is loaded. He will pay whatever they want to get me out of here. When I leave, you are coming with me!"

The live broadcast chat exploded into a frenzy.

[Wait, is that Sabrina? The Sabrina Croft from Masked Singer?]

[The crazy-talented contestant who vanished right before her face reveal? I have been wondering about her for years!]

[Oh my god. Look at her childhood photos. It is the same girl!]

[That means Cordelia stole her music later on! She took Sabrina's unreleased songs and claimed them!]

[I remember that home-life reality show! Cordelia maliciously mimicked Sabrina's style just to get fame. How disgusting. She stole from the very girl who tried to rescue her!]

Inside the studio, Declan read the scrolling holographic comments. His utter disgust intensified, a bitter sneer touching his lips. The chat confirmed everything he believed. It shamed him to share blood with someone so thoroughly rotten to the core.

Within the memory, Sabrina beamed brightly at the quiet, shivering girl huddled in the corner. "We match!" Sabrina noted, pointing at their shared captivity. "I always wanted a sister. Be mine when we escape?"

Before Cordelia could answer, Sabrina lunged forward, pulling the battered girl into a tight, unexpected hug.

"Do not touch me!" Cordelia whispered frantically, her voice lacing with panic. The sudden pressure pressed agonizingly against her hidden, untreated wounds.

Confused by the rejection, Sabrina innocently tugged at the collar of Cordelia's oversized, filthy shirt. The worn fabric slipped down her thin shoulder, exposing the flesh beneath.

Sabrina froze. A nightmare canvas of brutal welts, dark purple bruises, and deep, overlapping scars painted the little girl's back and chest. Not an inch of skin was spared.

A horrified, piercing scream tore from Sabrina's throat.

The sudden racket shattered the quiet farm. Heavy footsteps pounded against the dirt outside. Maude burst into the pen, her face flushed with fury, the heavy wooden rod already swinging in her grip.

"Shut that racket up!" the trafficker bellowed. "You woke my precious boy!"

Maude brought the heavy stick down hard, aiming straight for Sabrina's sheltered, unblemished head.

Without a second thought, Cordelia threw her small, deeply battered body over the sheltered newcomer. The heavy wood struck her frail back with a sickening thud. She gritted her teeth, using herself to shield Sabrina. She absorbed the brutal brunt of the heavy blows, grunting in pain as the stick cracked against her spine again and again. She refused to let the screaming girl take the hit.

The assault only stopped when the toddler's sudden wails drifted from the main house. Maude spat on the dirt, tossed the rod aside, and stomped away to tend to her son.

Silence settled over the dark pen, broken only by Sabrina's muffled sobs. Left trembling in the dirt, Cordelia shifted her aching body and whispered soft comforts to the weeping girl beneath her.

"It is okay," Cordelia murmured, pushing Sabrina's hair back. "Do not cry."

Humbled and devastated by the wounded child's profound selflessness, Sabrina wiped her tear-streaked face. She looked at Cordelia with a newfound, trembling reverence.

"Are you badly hurt?" Sabrina asked, her voice cracking. "Thank you. I mean it. My dad is rich. I will have him adopt you so we can be real sisters."

Cordelia offered a gentle but firm shake of her head.

"I cannot be your sister," she explained softly. "I already have parents. And two brothers."

Sabrina blinked in confusion. "You do?"

"Yes," Cordelia said, her voice steadying. "They love me very much. I know they are still desperately waiting for me to come back home."

At the mere mention of her home, a pure, angelic joy illuminated Cordelia's battered, grime-covered face. The dark scars and fresh bruises seemed to fade beneath the sheer radiance of her innocent smile. It was an unwavering, resilient hope that no amount of beating could break.

Deeply moved by this heartbreaking faith, Sabrina grabbed Cordelia's small hand.

"Then I will make sure you get back to them," Sabrina declared with a fierce, unyielding resolve. "I promise."