Liam headed toward Carrie's house when he arrived, the sky was already dark, painted in a deep blue that marked the end of the day. The neighborhood was silent—so silent it felt heavy. From that silence alone, Liam knew Carrie hadn't returned home yet.
He hid near a window, crouched behind some overgrown bushes, controlling his breathing as he waited patiently. Every so often, he lifted his gaze, alert for any shadow or movement inside the house. His expression was serious, calculating, though deep in his eyes a tense glimmer remained—anticipation.
After several minutes, he heard it.The slow, fearful turn of a lock.
Carrie pushed the door open with caution, as if even the soft click of the latch could doom her. Hearing it, Liam activated the camera with quick, practiced hands, adjusting the angle as he leaned farther into the darkness. His fingers were steady—too steady for a child his age.
"You disobeyed me, Carrie. I forbade you from going out after school, and yet you did it again today, completely ignoring me."
Carrie's mother appeared right behind the door, as if she had been standing there for hours, motionless, waiting. Her shadow fell over her daughter's small figure. Her stare—sharp, trembling with restrained fury—pierced through her like needles.
"M-Mom, I…" Carrie tried to speak, her voice barely a trembling whisper. Her breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling too quickly, as if speaking hurt.
But she didn't finish.
Her mother lunged forward, grabbing her shoulders with such force that Carrie jolted backward. Her fingers dug through the fabric of the uniform and into the skin beneath. Carrie pressed her lips together, holding back a small cry that nearly escaped.
"Shut up!" her mother spat, leaning so close her hot, angry breath hit Carrie's face. "What changed? Why are you suddenly starting to disobey me?"
She shook Carrie again, violently, her movements frantic and uncontrolled. Carrie's hair whipped side to side as she struggled to keep her eyes open.
Then something flickered across the mother's expression—realization. She remembered yesterday, when Carrie had come home late.
"A friend…" she muttered, and as she said it, she stared deep into Carrie's eyes, as though searching her soul.
"So it's a boy." Her voice dropped into a darker tone. "That boy must be a demon trying to take your purity. He's pulling you away from God. You must stop seeing him. Men are dangerous."
She gripped Carrie's chin, forcing her to look straight at her. Her eyes demanded the answer she wanted.
Carrie trembled. She swallowed hard. She hesitated—but only for a heartbeat. Fear still clung to her, but Liam's face flashed in her mind. His steady voice. His promise of a better life. The trust he placed in her.
She inhaled shakily and, for the first time, answered with courage.
"No. I won't stop meeting my friend. He… he's just trying to help me. He wants a better life for me. A life where fear doesn't control me."
By the time she finished, she was panting. Her hands trembled at her sides, but she didn't step back. Tears shimmered in her eyes, yet she refused to look away.
Her mother froze for a single second. Then her expression twisted with anger and desperation.
"No, daughter. Obey me. That boy is nothing but sin. You're only safe here in this house. No one else can be trusted. No one but your mother will truly care for you."
"That's not true! You're lying!" Carrie cried, her voice cracking, echoing against the walls.
Her mother snapped.
Her hand flew across the air, the slap echoing with a sharp, brutal crack. Carrie fell to her knees, a hand pressed to her cheek as tears spilled without her control.
"Enough," her mother whispered in a venomous tone. "Tonight you will reflect with God."
She grabbed Carrie's arm with a crushing grip and yanked her to her feet. Carrie pulled back, struggling.
"Let go of me! I don't want to!" she cried, kicking and trying to twist free.
But her mother dragged her toward the small closet.
She shoved her inside and slammed the door. Carrie pounded on it with trembling palms, her breath choppy and panicked.
Outside, her mother pressed her forehead against the door… and began to hit her head against it while muttering a desperate prayer.
"God… help Carrie see the truth… help her obey her mother…"
The dull thud of her skull against the wood mixed with Carrie's muffled sobs from inside the dark closet.
And from outside, hidden in the shadows, Liam recorded silently. His gaze was cold. Unmoving. His fists clenched in frustration.
That was the first day.
As the weeks passed, Carrie's mother began to lose control… and something deeper. Each day she looked more worn down, more unstable. Her once firm, fanatical voice grew brittle; her eyes sank into dark circles. The frustration of failing to dominate Carrie dug into her like a thorn she couldn't remove.
It didn't matter what Carrie did—she no longer obeyed.And that small, steady rebellion shattered something inside her mother.
By the end of the month, she looked half-unhinged. Her breathing was uneven, her movements jerky, unfocused. In a moment of sheer desperation, she stabbed her own hand in front of Carrie, convinced the pain would "purify" her and show her daughter the punishment for sin.
Carrie froze that day, silent tears trailing down her cheeks. The blood, the knife clattering onto the floor, the trembling of her mother's voice—all of it etched itself into her mind like a waking nightmare.
For Liam, that was the breaking point.He couldn't recording any more.
On many days, Carrie couldn't even escape the house. Her mother invented new methods to confine her, new threats, new punishments masked as faith.And when Carrie did manage to flee for a few minutes, Liam had to use all his patience and skill to keep her from falling apart. Because despite everything… Carrie still loved her mother.That love made her both weak and strong. A weight holding her back as she fought to move forward.
The final day was the hardest of all. Carrie—shaking, crying—saw more blood than ever. She watched her mother unravel completely. And in the middle of that pain, she felt something forbidden: relief.Relief that after this, there would be no more nights in the closet, no more screaming, no more terror.
She would be free.
Liam had everything ready. Weeks earlier, he had explained everything to his own mother, who hired a lawyer. Together they handed over every piece of evidence, every recording, every detail—enough to obtain custody of Carrie.
The police had no choice but to act.
Carrie's mother was taken to Juniper Hill Asylum, while Carrie was transferred to Liam's home, where she would be safe.
Even so, as the police car drove away, Carrie clung tightly to Liam's sleeve. She wasn't crying, but her breath trembled, as though something inside her was quietly breaking.
"Do you think… she'll be alright?" she whispered, afraid to look back.Her hands shook, though she fought to keep her composure. She was braver than before—much braver—but she was still a girl who had just lost the only family she'd ever known.
Liam glanced at her. He saw the fear, the doubt, the fractured love.
With a calm—not the fragile kind of a child, but the steady, deliberate kind of someone far older—he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Juniper Hill is where they can help her," he said softly, with warmth carefully woven into his calculated voice. "She'll be under care now. She can't hurt you anymore."
Carrie swallowed, tightening her grip on his sleeve.
"I hope… I hope they really help her," she whispered, barely audible.
Liam nodded slowly and guided her away.
Because even though he had finally freed her…some wounds don't close so easily.