Unveiled: The Survivor's Triumph

Sophie jumped up, scared out of her mind, and shoved the only table in the room against the door without saying a word.

She turned around, looking pale as a ghost, and said, "It's fine, don't freak out. He probably got the wrong door. He'll knock for a bit, and when no one answers, he'll leave." Honestly, we weren't the ones freaking out; it was all her.

And I didn't buy for a second that the drunk outside had the wrong door. Her quick move to block the door was pure instinct, so this kind of late-night hassle was definitely not new to her. The knocking got louder, and the drunk guy outside started slurring his words.

"I know you're in there. I just heard voices. Did you bring a guy back? Open the door."

After a bit more knocking, he leaned against the door, his voice dropping like he was trying to be sneaky.

"One hundred bucks a time, deal or not? The old ladies outside only charge fifty."

Sophie couldn't take his nasty words anymore, covered her ears, and squatted down.

I looked at Dakato. "Dakato, open the door."

Dakato nodded and walked over. Sophie jumped up and grabbed her.

"No, he'll leave. Trust me, he won't stay there forever. He'll leave."

I stood up and looked Sophie in the eye.

"Be straight with me. Does this guy come around often? Has he ever messed with you?"

Sophie bit her lip and shook her head.

"No, as soon as I get home at night, I lock the door tight. He knocks for a while, and when I don't open up, he leaves."

I patted her hand to calm her down. "Don't worry, it's okay."

I gave Dakato a look, and she got it, moving the table and opening the door.

The drunk guy leaning against it fell flat on his face.

He was in a tank top, rolled-up pants, and beat-up slippers, one of which fell off. His face was red, and he wobbled as he got up. His pants, stained with white plaster, weren't even zipped up. He squinted at us, grinning like an idiot with a creepy smile.

"You finally opened the door. Happy with the price now?"

He reached out to touch my face, probably thinking I was Sophie.

Before he could, Dakato slapped him hard.

His head snapped to the side, and after a moment, he turned back, pissed off.

"You dare hit me? I'll make you call me daddy."

He rolled up his sleeves, trying to look tough.

"Hey, look, your wife's here to get you." Sophie bravely tried to step in.

The drunk wasn't buying it and laughed. "Don't try to scare me. My father-in-law's birthday is these days, and she took the kids back home."

Before he could get closer, Dakato knocked him down again.

Even sober, he wouldn't stand a chance against Dakato.

This time, Dakato didn't give him a chance to get up, beating him until he begged for mercy.

"Stop, stop, I won't do it again. I won't dare anymore."

The noise drew a crowd, and Abby woke up from all the commotion.

Sophie quickly went to pick up and comfort the kid.

I made a quick decision. "Sophie, you and Abby are coming with me. You can't stay here anymore."

After getting rid of the drunk, we helped Sophie pack up and left that nightmare of a place that night.

On the way, I suggested Sophie stay at my place. But she didn't want to intrude.

I knew it wasn't a long-term fix. I remembered my old house in the alley, empty for two years despite plans for demolition. I decided to let Sophie stay there for now; it was way better than living in the Grimeville Ghetto. The old house hadn't been opened in over a year and was covered in dust.

Once inside, I opened all the windows to air it out.

Abby had fallen asleep on the way, so we quickly set up a bed for Sophie to put her down.

Then Sophie and I did a quick clean-up of the place. Sophie sensibly said, "Emily, it's late. Why don't you go home and rest? I'll do a thorough cleaning tomorrow."

I was getting warm from the cleaning and pulled Sophie to rest on the sofa.

"Sophie, I'm sorry you have to stay here for now."

Sophie immediately shook her head. "Emily, it's not a problem. It's way better than where I was before. But I'm really scared Linda will find out I'm here, so please don't tell Lacey and Richard, okay?"

I got her thought and nodded.

After a while, Ethan called me. He had a dinner meeting and would be back late, so I decided to stay at the old house with Sophie for the night. After hanging up, I told Dakato to head home.

Sophie stood by the window, staring at the sparse lights in the distance.

"Emily, am I really useless?"

Seeing her frail back, I couldn't help but think of my own helpless and timid self from two years ago.

I walked over and said firmly, "No way, you're doing great. Raising Abby on your own is no joke, especially at 20. But if you start working hard now, it's not too late. Forget about the kindergarten and club jobs or money for now. Focus on learning and improving your skills so you can land better-paying gigs. Abby's almost two and can go to daycare in the fall. You can work at the Empire Artistry Group then. I know you'll have a bright future." Sophie lowered her head and asked timidly, "Can I really do it?"

I encouraged her. "Of course, Sophie. Believe in yourself. Aurora once told me, the harder you work, the luckier you get."

Maybe it was the change of environment, so Abby wasn't sleeping well and soon started crying again. Sophie quickly went back to comfort her.

I told Sophie to get some rest and that we could talk in the morning. But when I lay down, I couldn't fall asleep for a long time.

I thought about the month I spent recovering here after my miscarriage. Those were the darkest days of my life. Thankfully, I had Bella and Seagull, who constantly supported me and helped me out of the gloom. People needed a helping hand and some encouragement when they were at their lowest.

Suddenly, a song drifted in from outside. In the quiet of the night, I could clearly hear the drunkenness in the singing. It was a song by the Thorn Birds Band.

I got up and walked out the door. The singing was clearer in the hallway. I walked down to the next floor and found the apartment door below open.

This was Jason's place, but his family had moved out years ago.

I peeked inside. The room was dark, with no lights on. I stepped in and noticed there was no musty smell, only a lingering scent of alcohol. The windows were wide open, letting in faint moonlight.

I walked into the living room and saw a figure lying near the window. Taking a few more steps, I accidentally kicked over a beer bottle, which clattered loudly.

The singing stopped, and the person on the floor turned their head, asking drunkenly, "Emily, is that you?"

"Jason?"

He groaned in discomfort.

I fumbled along the wall, looking for a light switch. Jason seemed to understand my intention and said, "There's no light. It's been broken for a while, and I haven't bothered to fix it."

By now, my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and I saw the floor around him was littered with beer bottles.

I quietly picked up the bottles and placed them in a corner, then walked over to him and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I want some water," he said.

I felt my way to the kitchen and tried the light switch. The kitchen light worked.

To my surprise, the kitchen was very clean.

I checked the kettle; it had water.

I found a cup, poured some water, and brought it to him, helping him sit up and drink.

He seemed extremely thirsty, downing the entire cup in one go.

"You can't just lie on the floor. Let me help you to the bed."

I put his arm over my shoulder and, with some effort, helped him up and into the bedroom.

I turned on the bedside lamp and laid him on the bed, finally getting a good look at his face.

His face was flushed, his shirt barely buttoned, and his neck and chest were red.

In my memory, he was always gentle, rational, and graceful. I had never seen him this drunk. I didn't ask why he drank so much; I knew he wasn't in a state to talk.

I just said, "You should sleep. We'll talk when you're sober."

As I turned to leave, he grabbed my wrist.

"Emily, stay with me!"

Instinctively, I tried to pull away, but he yanked me, and I fell onto him. Then he rolled over, pinning me beneath him.

He propped himself up on either side of me, his drunken eyes staring into mine, his breathing heavy.

I felt something was off with Jason. Despite his still-handsome appearance, there was a hint of danger about him.

I nervously pushed against him. "Jason, you're drunk."

Jason answered, "Yes, I'm drunk, Emily. When a man is drunk, he loses his reason. Alcohol gives courage, making him do things he wouldn't normally dare to do."