"Valerie, you piece of shit" her father's voice burst through the corridors.
Valerie's head still throbbed, she stepped into view with slow steps, taking in the words that came out of her father's mouth.
"What is this?" Charles hissed, holding up the tablet. The screen displayed the photos. Those photos. Her half-naked body sprawled on a couch, dress hitched, eyes vacant. A man's hand on her thigh. Her head tilted back in a dazed smile. Her face in close proximity with an older man's face.
Valerie's breath caught.
"I didn't—" she began, voice trembling.
Ashley hovered above the steps, a hand over her mouth, feigning shock.
"You didn't what?" he snapped. "Didn't whore yourself out at a party? Didn't shame this family? Didn't make a damn fool of yourself in front of God knows who?"
Her eyes burned at the betrayal she was feeling. "I was drugged, I drank-"
"Oh, save it!" His voice rose, booming. "Do you know how many clients have already seen this? Your name is all over it. Smith. My name!. My name!!"
Valerie took a step back, years dripping down the sides of her face. Lately, she had been nothing but a disappointment to her dad. It seemed like everything she did was an abomination in his yes and this. It would definitely break the camel's back "Dad, please"
He strode forward, veins bulging at his temple. "You've always been reckless, but this, this is beyond stupidity Valerie. This is disgusting. I didn't train you to be like this. You look like some cheap girl off the street. Your mother would hate to see you like this", his voice trailed off.
"I didn't choose this!" she cried, voice cracking. "I didn't even know those pictures were being taken. I don't remember half the night! I swear dad"
"And that's your excuse?" he sneered. "That you were too drunk to remember spreading your legs? Huh?"
The slap of his words hit harder than any hand ever could.
Valerie staggered back, her breath gone. Silence wrapped around them. Even Ashley looked away.
"You think I wanted this?" she whispered. "You think I would let myself…"
"Yes, I think," Charles said, voice cold, "that you are a disgrace to this family. You've embarrassed me in ways I can't even begin to fix. Valerie it's you. If your mother were alive—"
"Don't you dare bring her into this," she snapped, shaking. "She would've believed me. She would've protected me. Not blamed me like you."
"Valerie" her father's voice was deep and commanding.
Valerie said nothing, instead, she turned around and fled up the steps in quick paces. The betrayal she felt was unexplainable.
Paige glided into the scene slowly, placing a hand on Charles's shoulder. "Maybe we should let her be for now." she said, her face was emotionless.
Charles said nothing, but the disgust in his eyes lingered. His breath hitched up and down. His nostrils flaring.
Valerie barely made it two steps up the stairs before his voice came again, it was hard, clipped and final.
"You're not staying here."
She froze. Her hand gripped the banister, her knees suddenly weak. She turned around slowly, not fully facing him.
"What?"
"You can't stay here anymore Valerie. You have until tomorrow to get your things out of this house, since you want to bring so much shame to my name, you might as well not have any privileges."
He walked closer to the bottom of the stairs, "You want to act like trash? Fine, do you, but not under my roof. Get out"
Valerie stared at him in disbelief. "You're really going to be kicking me out?"
"You've embarrassed me, this family, my business. You think I'm going to let reporters come sniffing around because my daughter turned into some back-alley scandal?" He jabbed a finger toward the door. "You made your choice. Now live with it."
"I didn't choose this!" she shouted, voice raw. "I was drugged, set up! You're throwing me out over something I didn't even do!. Its never even that deep. Just listen to me for once" she broke into sobs, the sound of her cries filling the space.
"You did enough," he said coldly. "Get out."
A choking sound escaped her throat, it was a half sob, half laugh. "You'd believe Ashley over me? That girl has hated me since day one"
"Don't drag your sister into your mess," Paige said smoothly, stepping beside Charles planting a faint smirk on her lips briefly before wiping it away.
"She's not my sister," Valerie hissed.
Valerie's gaze snapped to her, eyes blazing. "You did this."
Charles turned away, "Leave my house Valerie"
Silence fell like a bomb.
Her knees nearly gave out, but she forced herself upright. Not here. Not in front of them.
Valerie bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. Then, without another word, she turned and stormed up the stairs, swallowing the scream in her throat.
Her bedroom door clicked shut behind her. Valerie stood frozen, the air thick with grief. Her room was once her place of comfort but now it felt like a stranger's space.
Her hands trembled as she grabbed the suitcase from beneath the bed. She tossed all her clothes in blindly, putting in her shirts, jeans, and even her favourite hoodie that still smelled of her mother's old perfume. Tears threatened to spill again but she bit them back.
She yanked open the bottom drawer of her dresser, the one she barely touched anymore. Beneath a stack of old sketchbooks and a scarf her mother used to wear was the one thing she had kept hidden for years. It was a small black velvet box. No label. No keyhole. Just a slim silver monogram inscribed on the top. It resembled an emblem that looked like a raven in flight.
Her mother had given it to her days before she died.
"Don't open this unless you have nowhere else to turn," she had whispered.
Valerie had always thought it was sentimental but now, with everything stripped from her, the weight of those words felt different. Nowhere to turn. She slipped the box into her bag without opening it.
She zipped the suitcase and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Her fingers grazed her childhood bookshelf one last time, resting on a photo of her and her mom. She didn't hesitate before she snatched the picture off the shelf and shoved it into her bag as well.
As she descended the stairs, she didn't look toward the living room. She didn't care if her father watched her leave or if Paige wore that smug, satisfied expression.
Let them choke on their silence.
Outside, the evening air was sharp and cool, stinging her skin. Valerie sat on the curb, suitcase beside her, phone in hand. Her fingers hovered for a second before she dialed the only person she had left.
It rang once. Twice. Then—
"Valerie?" the voice answered, groggy but alert.