Chapter 2: The Price of Obedience

Janice cleared her throat and started reading her list, voice rising with each rule. "Rule number one: Up by 5:30 a.m. sharp to cook breakfast—every day, a new menu. Never greet your husband without makeup. Always keep a cheerful face. Hand over your whole salary or you’ll be accused of disrespect."

She kept going—ten, twenty, almost a hundred rules. With every item, Natalie’s face paled, her fingers twisting the edge of her sweater. Derek looked away, uncomfortable. My jaw ached from holding back a reaction. No woman in this town would put up with this—no woman anywhere should have to.

By the time Janice finished, Mom had heard enough. She shot to her feet, hands clenched, voice shaking. "Do you think you’re royalty or something? You’re small-town folks with more rules than sense! I raised Natalie with love, not so she could be your servant!"

She glared at Derek. "You barely finished high school—my granddaughter’s a star student. If she didn’t love you, you’d never set foot in this house! If you don’t want to get married, then don’t! Get out—now!"

With that, she marched them out, slamming the door so hard the pictures rattled. I watched her, pride and heartbreak warring in my chest.

Natalie collapsed into Mom’s arms, sobbing. She’d never lived in luxury, but she’d never suffered, either. Now she saw what marrying into Derek’s family would really mean. Mom stroked her hair, whispering comfort, while I poured myself a drink and stared out at the darkening sky.

It took a promise of a shopping trip for a new bracelet to coax a smile out of Natalie. Mom’s voice was gentle, but her eyes were tired. "A lucky girl doesn’t marry into an unlucky family, Nat. You deserve better."

I folded my arms, tone sharp. "Speaking of bracelets, where are the five gold pieces Derek promised? Listen to your grandma—don’t rush into this."

Natalie hesitated, torn between love and fear. She looked at me, searching for approval, but I stood firm. Mom patted her knee, her voice wavering. "Nat won’t marry into a family like that."

At that, Natalie snapped, glaring through red-rimmed eyes. "You’re the unlucky old woman!"

She stormed off to her room, leaving silence and shock in her wake. Mom slumped on the couch, wiping away tears. I wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing left to say.

She clutched an old photo of Natalie, thumb tracing the edge. I sat beside her, unsure if I should reach for her hand or let her mourn. Sometimes, love hurts more than hate ever could.

I wanted to chase after Natalie, to fix things. But this was just the beginning. The real heartbreak was still to come.