My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 307

Chapter 307

Hazel’s eyes snapped toward the heavy wooden doors of the walk-in closet. She began to take stiff, angry steps straight toward the closet doors. Straight toward me.

As Hazel’s stiff, uneven footsteps clicked closer and closer to the closet doors, my instincts took over.

I didn’t panic. I simply moved.

I found the door at the back and pushed it open, stepping into her private bathroom. I didn’t shut the bathroom door all the way. I left it open, watching the closet through the gap.

A second later, the closet doors flew open.

Hazel hobbled inside. Gianna stood at the entrance of the closet, her face completely pale, her hands clutched tight against her chest as she watched her mother.

“Mom, please,” Gianna whispered, her voice small and broken, “There’s nothing in there. Just stop.”

“I am not stopping!” Hazel cried, “I have had enough of you doing whatever the hell you want with your life! You think I want to do this? You think I want to tear your room apart? I do this because I am your mother, you insolent child! You don’t even know what is good for you anymore, and if I don’t stop you, no one will!”

I knew how the human brain worked under pressure, and right now, my mind told me that Hazel was making a massive mistake. Ripping Gianna’s room apart, screaming at her, and calling her names was not going to fix this. It was only going to make it worse.

If you take a weapon away from a person who wants to hurt themselves, they do not suddenly get better. They just get desperate.

It was irrational.

With her stronger right hand, Hazel began to rip things off the shelves. Shoeboxes clattered to the floor, high heels scattered, and bags were tossed aside like trash.

Then, she reached the very back corner, pulling down a box from the top shelf. She dropped it. It hit the floor, the lock snapping open from the force.

had put these ideas into her head and tear them apart piece by piece.

My eyes locked onto Gianna, who was standing frozen by the closet door. She was staring down at the pile of tools on the floor, but her eyes were completely blank. She looked so utterly empty, as if she had already detached her mind from her physical form. She was shutting down, retreating deep inside herself where her mother’s screams couldn’t reach her.

“Oh, God, Ginny…” Hazel sobbed.

She fell to her knees, her weak left leg folding awkwardly beneath her. She slowly lifted the thick wooden stick She held it close to her face, as she stared at the dark, brownish-red stains dried into the wood. It was blood.

Hazel clutched the stained wood to her chest, rocking back and forth on the floor as if she were holding a dying child.

“What have you been doing to yourself?” Hazel wept, “My baby… what have you done?”

Janedoewritings Author