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Chapter 1: Do we really have to move??

Cass walked into her mother’s room with a reluctant look on her face.

The moment she saw the open suitcase on the bed, her expression fell even more. Clothes were neatly folded in piles, and several drawers had already been emptied. The room that had always felt warm and lived-in suddenly looked unfamiliar.

Cass sighed softly and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Mum,” she called gently.

“Yeah?” Miranda replied without looking up, her hands still busy folding clothes.

Cass hesitated before speaking again.

“Mum… do we really have to move?”

That question finally got Miranda’s attention.

She slowly placed the clothes down and turned toward her daughter, exhaustion written across her face. For a moment, she didn’t answer. Instead, she just stared at the half-packed suitcase like it carried the weight of the decision.

“Cass,” she said softly, “I know you don’t want to go. But we have to.”

Cass frowned.

“I really can’t stay here anymore,” Miranda continued quietly. “Your dad is getting more and more out of control. If things get worse, he may…”

Her voice trailed off.

She couldn’t finish the sentence.

Tears slowly gathered in her eyes, and she looked away, trying to hide them.

Cass reached forward and gently held her mother’s hand.

“Mum, I know you’re scared,” she said softly. “But Dad would never do that on purpose. He’s not that kind of person. And you know it.”

Miranda’s expression tightened.

“I believed that, Cass,” she said quietly. “For the past six months, I’ve believed that.”

She looked at her daughter again, pain visible in her eyes.

“But your dad doesn’t seem like he’s changing back. I could tolerate it when it was only me, but now he has started beating your brother too. I can’t just sit here and wait until it’s your turn. I—”

“Dad won’t!” Cass shouted suddenly, jumping to her feet.

“He won’t! He won’t lay a finger on me! I know that—and you do too!”

“Cass!!!”

The cold, angry voice cut sharply through the room.

Both Cass and Miranda turned toward the doorway.

Raymond stood there, his tall frame blocking the entrance. His expression was dark, his eyes fixed on Cassandra with pure anger.

Cass bit her lip hard as tears threatened to fall, but she refused to look away.

“I know my dad,” she said stubbornly. “He wouldn’t do something like that on purpose. You both just want to leave him. You’re not even trying to understand him!”

“Understand?” Raymond repeated incredulously.

He stepped into the room, his voice rising.

“Cass, are you blind or something? What exactly do you expect me to understand about a man who beats up and bullies his wife every time he comes home drunk?”

Miranda lowered her head silently.

Raymond continued, anger spilling out of him.

“How can you even bear to call him Dad? Don’t you care about Mum at all?”

“Of course I do!” Cass shouted back immediately.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t even consider leaving with you both!”

She pulled her arm free when Raymond grabbed her wrist.

“But Mum has us!” she continued desperately. “Who does Dad have? Have you even thought about that at all?”

Raymond stared at her for a long moment.

His expression slowly hardened.

Then he released her arm and stepped back.

“He doesn’t deserve it,” he said quietly.

His voice was calm now.

But the coldness in it was far worse than shouting.

Cass felt her chest tighten.

“You’re the worst,” she muttered angrily.

Before either of them could respond, she turned and ran out of the room.

Her footsteps echoed loudly through the hallway as she rushed downstairs and out of the house.

The cold evening air hit her face immediately.

She didn’t stop running.

Not until the house was far behind her.

Only then did she slow down, breathing heavily as tears finally rolled down her cheeks.

They didn’t understand.

Neither of them did.

Yes, her father had been drinking more lately.

Yes, he had been angry.

But that wasn’t who he really was.

At least… that’s what Cass wanted to believe.

She wiped her tears quickly.

“Dad isn’t a bad person,” she whispered to herself.

“He just needs someone to believe in him.”

But back inside the house, Miranda sat quietly on the edge of the bed.

Raymond stood by the door, staring at the hallway where Cassandra had disappeared.

“She’ll understand someday,” Miranda said softly.

Raymond didn’t answer.

His jaw tightened as he looked toward the window.

Outside, the sky was already darkening.

“I hope she does,” he said quietly.

.

---

Chapter 2: We are leaving tomorrow

The cold evening air stung Cassandra’s face as she sat on the small bench at the corner park.

Her arms were folded tightly across her chest as she stared down at the pavement. The argument replayed in her head over and over again.

"He doesn’t deserve it."

Raymond’s words echoed painfully in her mind.

Cass kicked a small pebble across the ground.

“They’re wrong,” she muttered under her breath.

Her dad wasn’t a bad person.

Yes, things had been messy lately.

Yes, he had been drinking more.

But people didn’t understand how hard he worked… how much pressure he was under.

He loved them.

Cass knew he did.

Footsteps approached from behind.

“Cass.”

She didn’t turn around.

“Go away, Raymond.”

Her brother sighed as he stopped beside the bench.

“You can sit out here all night if you want,” he said calmly. “It won’t change anything.”

Cass clenched her jaw but remained silent.

“The moving trucks are coming tomorrow morning,” Raymond continued. “Mom already signed the papers. Everything is ready.”

That made Cass finally look up.

“What?”

“The flight is tomorrow by 8."

Cass stared at him in disbelief.

“So you guys just decided everything without me?”

Raymond’s expression softened slightly.

“We tried to talk to you,” he said. “You just refused to listen.”

Cass looked away again.

The truth hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Raymond rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Look,” he said quietly, “Mom’s exhausted. She needs this. We all do.”

Cass didn’t respond.

After a long moment, she stood up.

“Fine,” she muttered.

Raymond blinked.

“Fine?”

“I’m going home,” she said coldly. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Raymond exhaled quietly, relieved.

“Yeah.”

They walked back home together in silence.

---

Cass went straight to her room the moment they got back.

The familiar smell of her room made her chest tighten.

Her posters.

Her messy desk.

The fairy lights hanging above her bed.

Everything would be gone tomorrow.

She slowly sat down on the edge of her bed.

Then her eyes landed on the guitar resting against the wall.

Cass picked it up automatically.

The smooth wood felt comforting in her hands.

She rested the guitar on her knee and began playing softly.

The melody was slow and emotional.

Each chord echoed quietly through the room.

Music had always been her escape.

Whenever things felt too heavy… the guitar made everything easier to breathe through.

She closed her eyes as her fingers moved across the strings.

The room was peaceful for some minutes before the sound of phone ringing tore through the silence. She opened her hazel colored eyes that were slightly red at the corners and glanced at her phone.

She immediately sat up straight as she urgently picked up the call.

" Hey Baby", the rough mature soothing voice rang in her ears and crashed down her defense as she broke down in tears.

"Dad.. Dad...Dad"

Harold felt his heart ache as he listened to his daughter's broken sobs.

Harold felt his heart ache as he listened to his daughter's broken sobs.

“Cass… hey… hey, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Don’t cry like that.”

But hearing his voice only made the tears worse.

“I don’t want to go!” she choked out. “I don’t want to leave you!”

Harold leaned back in his chair, closing his tired eyes.

The bar around him buzzed with low chatter and the clinking of glasses, but he barely heard any of it. All he could hear was his daughter crying on the other end of the line.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know you don’t.”

Cass wiped her face with the sleeve of her hoodie, trying to calm down.

“They’re acting like you’re some kind of monster,” she said bitterly. “You’re not like that. You’re not.”

Harold’s hand tightened around the phone.

For a moment, he didn’t answer.

“Dad?” Cass whispered.

“I messed up, Cass,” he finally said.

His voice was calm, but heavy.

Cass shook her head even though he couldn’t see her.

“No,” she said quickly. “You didn’t. You’re just going through a hard time. That’s all.”

Harold gave a small, tired chuckle.

“You always did believe in me more than I deserved.”

Cass sniffed and sat cross-legged on her bed, still holding the guitar loosely in her lap.

“I mean it,” she said stubbornly. “You’ll get better. Everything will go back to normal.”

Harold wished he believed that.

But he didn’t.

“You should listen to your mom,” he said after a moment. “She’s doing what she thinks is best for you.”

Cass frowned.

“So you’re just okay with us leaving?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then why aren’t you stopping it?”

Harold didn’t answer immediately.

Cass could hear him exhale slowly.

“Because maybe… this is the only way you kids get some peace for a while.”

Her chest tightened at his words.

“Dad…”

“I don’t want you growing up around my mistakes,” he said quietly.

Cass gripped the edge of her guitar.

“You’re not a mistake.”

Silence stretched between them again.

To break it, Cass lightly brushed her fingers across the strings of the guitar.

A soft melody drifted through the phone.

Harold’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

“You’re playing again?”

“Yeah.”

“You used to play that one when you were little,” he said, his voice softening. “Back when you could barely reach the strings.”

Cass gave a small laugh through her tears.

“I remember. You said I sounded like a dying cat.”

Harold chuckled.

“Well… you did.”

She played the melody a little longer.

The notes floated gently around the room.

“Sounds better now,” Harold admitted.

Cass looked around her bedroom as she played.

The posters on the wall.

Her old bookshelf.

The tiny scratches on her desk.

Every memory felt like it was staring back at her.

“We’re leaving tomorrow morning,” she said quietly.

“I heard.”

“I hate it.”

“I know.”

Her fingers slowed on the guitar strings.

“Will you… come visit?”

Harold hesitated.

“Maybe,” he said eventually.

Cass frowned slightly at his uncertain answer but didn’t push.

Instead, she asked softly,

“Are you drunk right now?”

Harold gave a low sigh.

“…Maybe a little.”

“Dad.”

“Don’t start sounding like your brother,” he muttered.

“I’m serious.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Cass wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t argue.

Not tonight.

She didn’t want their last conversation before the move to turn into another fight.

“Take care of Mom and Raymond for me,” Harold said after a moment.

Cass blinked.

“You should be the one saying that to them.”

“Maybe,” he replied quietly.

The melody faded as Cass stopped playing.

Her fingers rested gently on the guitar strings.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“…I’m still on your side.”

Harold closed his eyes.

That sentence hit harder than anything else she had said.

“You shouldn’t have to pick sides, Cass.”

“But I did.”

There was a long pause.

Finally, Harold spoke again, his voice softer than before.

“I love you, Cass"

Cass felt her throat tighten again.

“I love you too, Dad.”

The call ended a few moments later.