The Heiress They Tried To Kill

"Once a burden, always a burden."

Those five words followed me everywhere.

Some people grow up hearing lullabies.

Some grow up hearing their parents tell them they're loved.

I grew up hearing those five words until they became part of me.

Sometimes I'd repeat them in my head before Margaret even had the chance to say them.

Because if I said them first...

Maybe they wouldn't hurt as much.

They always did.

My name is Evelyn Grace Carter.

I'm eighteen years old.

I have long black hair that reaches my waist, grey-blue eyes that people say look "too sad for someone so young," and a tiny scar above my right eyebrow that I got when I was ten.

Margaret tells people I fell down the stairs.

I didn't.

She pushed me.

The scar healed.

Everything else didn't.

Outside, snow drifted lazily across the Carter estate, covering the neatly trimmed hedges in white.

From my bedroom window, London looked magical.

Children laughed in the distance.

Christmas lights decorated every house on our street.

Families were probably baking cookies, wrapping presents and arguing over what movie to watch.

Inside this house...

Nobody laughed.

Not anymore.

"Evie!"

Margaret's voice echoed through the mansion.

My shoulders stiffened instantly.

I looked at the clock.

7:14 p.m.

Richard—Dad—wouldn't be home for another hour.

That meant...

I was alone with her.

Again.

I quietly closed the sketchbook resting on my lap.

Inside were dozens of drawings.

Buildings.

Bridges.

Dream houses.

Places I'd imagined living one day.

Anywhere but here.

I hid the book beneath my pillow before opening my bedroom door.

The Carter mansion looked like something from a magazine.

Marble floors.

Crystal chandeliers.

Golden picture frames.

Everything expensive.

Everything spotless.

Everything fake.

Margaret stood in the kitchen wearing a cream cashmere dress, pearl earrings, and a smile so perfect she'd convinced half of London she was an angel.

Her blonde hair rested neatly on her shoulders.

Her emerald-green eyes met mine.

Cold.

Calculating.

Dangerous.

"Evelyn."

"Yes?"

"Why is Olivia's school blazer still wrinkled?"

"I ironed it this afternoon."

She folded her arms.

"So now you're calling my daughter a liar?"

"No."

"Then explain."

"I... I don't know."

She stepped closer.

The click of her heels against the marble floor sounded like a countdown.

"You don't know?" she repeated softly.

That soft voice scared me more than shouting ever could.

"I'll iron it again."

"You'll do much more than that."

Footsteps thundered down the staircase.

Olivia.

Seventeen.

Beautiful.

Perfect.

Everything Margaret ever wanted in a daughter.

She had silky blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and flawless makeup despite still being in secondary school.

She barely looked at me.

"Mom, she's lying."

"I know."

"I told you she hates me."

Margaret sighed dramatically.

"I know, sweetheart."

My stomach twisted.

"I don't hate—"

"Silence."

One word.

That was all it took.

Another pair of footsteps echoed behind us.

"Ethan!"

A boy with messy brown hair appeared, football tucked beneath one arm.

He looked between the three of us.

His hazel eyes settled on me.

He noticed my trembling hands.

Again.

"Evelyn didn't—"

"Ethan."

Margaret didn't even raise her voice.

Yet he immediately stopped talking.

"I'm just saying maybe—"

"I wasn't asking."

His shoulders slumped.

"Sorry."

I caught him looking at me again.

He looked guilty.

He always looked guilty.

Like he wanted to help.

Like he never could.

The front door opened.

A blast of icy wind swept through the hallway.

"Dad's home!"

Olivia rushed past me.

Richard Carter stepped inside, brushing snow from his black overcoat.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair beginning to silver around the temples.

The moment he smiled...

The house felt different.

Warmer.

"There's my girls."

He hugged Olivia first.

Then Ethan.

Finally...

Me.

"You okay, Evie?"

I forced a smile.

"I'm fine."

He frowned.

"You sure?"

Before I could answer—

Margaret wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh, Richard, darling, you've had such a long day."

Just like that...

His attention shifted.

I looked away.

Dinner was always quiet.

Richard talked about work.

Olivia talked about school.

Margaret smiled and laughed at all the right moments.

Anyone looking through the dining room windows would think we were the perfect family.

Then Richard's phone rang.

"I have to take this."

He excused himself.

The moment he disappeared...

The room changed.

Margaret slowly placed her fork down.

She looked directly at me.

"You embarrassed me today."

"I didn't."

Smack.

The slap came so fast my head snapped sideways.

My cheek burned.

Olivia kept eating.

Ethan stared at his plate.

Nobody said a word.

When Richard returned a minute later...

Margaret was smiling again.

That night, I sat on the floor of my bedroom with my sketchbook.

Instead of drawing houses...

I drew the moon.

I wondered if it ever got lonely.

A knock sounded.

Soft.

Three taps.

I opened the door.

Ethan stood there holding a sandwich wrapped in napkins.

"I... um..."

He scratched the back of his neck.

"You didn't finish dinner."

I stared at the sandwich.

"Take it before Mom sees."

"Thank you."

He shrugged.

"I didn't do anything."

"You did."

For the first time all day...

I smiled.

He smiled back.

Then hurried away before anyone noticed.

I closed the door and leaned against it.

Maybe...

Maybe not everyone in this house hated me.

I unwrapped the sandwich carefully.

Inside was ham and cheese.

My favourite.

Someone had remembered.

A tear slipped down my cheek.

Not because I was sad.

Because kindness felt unfamiliar.

Outside, the snow fell harder.

My phone buzzed.

A weather alert.

SEVERE SNOWSTORM WARNING.

Residents are advised to remain indoors.

Travel is strongly discouraged.

Temperatures are expected to fall below freezing overnight.

I locked my phone.

Something felt...

Wrong.

The house was unusually quiet.

Too quiet.

Then—

Voices.

Downstairs.

Margaret.

Richard.

They were arguing.

I crept into the hallway.

Their bedroom door was slightly open.

"...I'm changing the will," Richard said.

My heart skipped.

Margaret laughed.

"No, you're not."

"I already have."

Silence.

Then—

"If anything ever happens to me," Richard continued, "Evelyn will be protected."

A loud crash echoed through the room.

Glass shattered.

Margaret's voice became dangerously calm.

"You have no idea what you're doing."

"I know exactly what I'm doing."

I stepped back.

My breathing quickened.

I shouldn't be listening.

I turned to leave—

The floorboard beneath my foot...

Creaked.

The voices stopped.

Complete silence.

Then I heard Margaret whisper...

"...Did you hear that?"