The house had always been a place of tension, but that night, there was something darker in the

  air. The weight of the secrets that had been building between the walls seemed to press down,

  heavier than ever before.

  It started as something small—a stolen glance, a touch that lingered too long. But by the time

  Vasilisa had caught wind of it, the affair between Eric and her sister, Alina, had already spiraled

  too far. Her heart had clenched in disbelief when she first suspected, and she had told herself that

  she was imagining things. But the whispers in the house, the late-night conversations she

  overheard, told a different story.

  The truth had finally come crashing into Vasilisa’s reality when she had returned home early

  from an errand, her footsteps soft and careful. She wasn’t sure why she had come back early, but

  as she neared the house, the strangest feeling washed over her. She had walked in through the

  back door, thinking nothing of it, only to hear the sound of soft laughter—Eric’s voice, too low,

  too intimate.

  She hadn’t meant to follow it, but something inside her couldn’t stop herself. It was as if the

  world had pulled her toward the sound of the betrayal, as though fate itself had guided her to this

  moment.

  Vasilisa stood at the top of the stairs and peeked around the corner, only to see Eric sitting too

  close to Alina, his hand on her shoulder, his face filled with that smile she’d seen him give so

  many times before. But now, it was different—darker. The kind of smile that no man should ever

  give a girl so young.

  Her stomach churned.

  "Eric," Alina murmured softly, her voice shy but full of something Vasilisa couldn’t

  understand—something that terrified her. "I... I trust you."

  Her sister’s innocence shone in her eyes, unaware of the danger she was in, unaware of how

  easily Eric had manipulated her into this web. Vasilisa wanted to scream, to rush down there and

  tear him away from her sister, but she couldn’t move.

  Then, from the corner of the room, she heard the sharp voice of Aunt Svetlana.

  "You two," Aunt Svetlana’s voice was laced with venom, but there was something more.

  Vasilisa heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps—heavy and deliberate. "You think I don’t

  know?"

  The next moment, Aunt Svetlana stormed into the room, her eyes wild with fury. The room

  seemed to freeze, the air thick with tension. Her aunt was usually composed, a woman who wore

  her control like armor. But now, her face was contorted in rage as she lunged toward Alina.

  "You filthy little slut!" Aunt Svetlana screamed, grabbing Alina by the throat with surprising

  strength. "Do you think I don’t know what you’ve been doing with him? You’ve ruined

  everything!"

  Alina gasped, her hands weakly clawing at her aunt’s grip, her face turning a sickly shade of

  pale. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she couldn’t speak. The life was draining from her.

  Vasilisa’s heart stopped as she watched, paralyzed by the scene unfolding before her. Her mind

  screamed at her to do something, to act, but her body refused to move. For one split second, she

  thought of nothing but Alina’s life—how much she loved her, how much she had promised to

  protect her from everything, from everyone.

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  In that moment, Vasilisa’s love for her sister was stronger than any hesitation, any fear. Without

  thinking, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find—a sharp knife from the kitchen—and ran

  down the stairs. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and everything else was drowned out by the

  sound of her own heartbeat.

  "Let her go!" Vasilisa screamed, her voice breaking the silence of the room.

  But Aunt Svetlana, blinded by rage, didn’t even flinch. She just laughed—a twisted, bitter sound.

  "You think you can stop me, Vasilisa? You’ve already ruined everything. You’re just like your

  mother—a disappointment!"

  Vasilisa’s vision blurred with rage, her hands trembling with adrenaline. The knife felt like it

  was pulsing in her grip as she advanced toward her aunt. Alina’s eyes were wide with panic, the

  skin of her neck mottled with the marks of Svetlana’s fingers.

  "You want to save her?" Aunt Svetlana mocked, tightening her grip around Alina’s throat.

  "You’ll have to do more than just stand there."

  That was when Vasilisa couldn’t hold back any longer. In one swift motion, she plunged the

  knife into Aunt Svetlana’s side, the force of it pushing through with sickening precision.

  Her aunt’s body froze, her grip on Alina faltering as the blood quickly began to spill. Svetlana

  gasped, her eyes wide with shock, then with rage as she stumbled back, her hands clutching at

  the wound. She looked down at the blood blooming from her side, her eyes dulling with

  realization.

  Vasilisa stood there, breathing heavily, the knife still in her hand. The silence in the room was

  deafening.

  Alina, still gasping for air, had fallen to the floor, her hands weakly clutching at her throat as she

  gasped, trying to breathe. Vasilisa knelt beside her immediately, her hand gently resting on

  Alina’s back, soothing her.

  "You’re okay," Vasilisa whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I won’t let her hurt you. You’re

  safe now."

  But Alina—Alina didn’t seem to hear her. The shock in her eyes was not just from her aunt's

  attack, but from the sight of what Vasilisa had done. Her elder sister, the one she had always

  trusted, was now the one holding the knife that had ended their aunt’s life.

  Alina’s voice trembled as she looked at Vasilisa, eyes wide with disbelief. "What have you

  done? What did you do to her?"

  The words struck Vasilisa harder than any blow could have. She knew. She knew that nothing

  could undo what had just happened. She had crossed a line—a line that would change everything

  forever.

  "I… I did it for you," Vasilisa whispered, but even her own words felt hollow. "I did it because

  she would’ve killed you. I couldn’t let her…"

  Alina didn’t say anything. She didn’t move. She just stared at her sister, horror written across her

  face.

  And in that moment, Vasilisa realized that she had just lost everything. The sister she had sworn

  to protect, the sister who had trusted her—she now saw her as a murderer.

  Vasilisa’s chest tightened as she stared at her younger sister. The bond they once shared had

  been shattered in the most tragic way.

  The house felt colder now. The walls that had once felt like home now seemed like a cage. And

  Vasilisa knew, as she looked down at the body of her aunt, that there was no going back.