BY RYAN FORTUNE
Nathan Jenkins stood at the threshold, dust-covered and worn out from the coal mines, but with fire in his eyes. He had come for his daughter, Grace. Darryl Finch, caught off guard, had no time to react before Nathan tackled him to the ground. Rage and love mixed in equal measure as Nathan pounded Finch, fists raining down like the storms that had once swept Briar Ridge’s fertile lands.
Finch scrambled to his feet, but Nathan’s strength, born from the desperation of a father’s fury, was unrelenting. With one final blow, Finch stumbled out of the house, bloodied and humiliated, retreating into the wilderness, never to be seen again.
Emily, watching from the corner, was shaken to her core. In that moment, the fog that Finch had cast over her mind began to lift. She realised what she had allowed to happen to Grace, to her family, under Finch’s control. Tears welled in her eyes as Nathan descended into the cellar to free Grace. The family gathered around, solemn and still, as Grace emerged, gaunt and frail but with a quiet strength in her eyes.
The weeks that followed were filled with healing, both physical and emotional. Nathan and Emily, desperate to repair their marriage and fix their fractured family, worked tirelessly to rebuild the farm and their lives. Grace, though scarred by her ordeal, was treated like a fragile treasure, with her siblings showering her with affection, eager to make amends for their role in her suffering. The family seemed to be mending. But even as life slowly returned to normal, a subtle shift began to take place.
At first, Grace’s reminders of her suffering were just small, passing comments. “You know, it was hard for me down there,” she’d say when her brothers playfully teased her about something, or when Emily asked her to help with a task. The others, still consumed with guilt over what she had endured, would immediately fall silent, offering apologies or taking over whatever chore Grace was asked to do.
It didn’t take long before Grace began using her past suffering more deliberately. One day, when Emily asked her to help with the washing, Grace hesitated before quietly saying, “I suppose I can… but it still hurts sometimes, you know, thinking about everything I went through.” Emily’s face fell, the guilt tightening its grip. “Oh, Grace, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of it,” Emily replied, the task swiftly forgotten.
This became a pattern. Whenever the work was hard, Grace would find a way to mention her time in the cellar, how she had been starved and mistreated. “I’d help in the fields, but my strength isn’t what it used to be after being locked up for so long,” she’d murmur when Nathan asked for an extra hand. Without hesitation, her siblings would jump in, rushing to do whatever Grace needed, eager to prove their love and absolve themselves of their lingering guilt.
Over time, Grace's subtle manipulations became more overt. She began to expect special treatment — extra portions at dinner, her favorite seat by the fire, fewer chores, and more praise for even the smallest task. When her brothers or sisters dared to challenge her or refused her demands, she’d raise an eyebrow and say, “Don’t you remember what I went through? I thought you understood what that did to me.” Their protests would die on their lips, and they’d give in, weighed down by the unspoken burden of their complicity.
Nathan, too, was blind to Grace’s growing sense of entitlement. He saw her as the brave, resilient daughter who had endured unimaginable suffering, and he felt it was his duty to protect her, to make up for the time she had lost. When Emily tried to talk to him about Grace’s increasing demands, he’d wave her off. “Let her be, Em. She’s been through enough.”
But Emily wasn’t so easily convinced. She saw the way Grace wielded her trauma like a weapon, using it to control the family. One evening, after Grace had once again been excused from a chore, Emily cornered her daughter. “Grace, we love you, but you’re not the only one who suffered. We all went through that time together. You need to stop using it against us.”
Grace’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Using it? You think I want to remember what happened to me? I almost died, Mother. Do you understand that?” Her voice cracked with emotion, but there was steel behind it. “If you want me to act like nothing happened, then fine. But don’t be surprised if I’m not the same little girl I used to be.”
Emily, taken aback, couldn’t argue with that. She felt the weight of her own guilt settling over her once again. But a part of her couldn’t shake the feeling that Grace had become something different, something harder, more calculating, since the day Nathan had returned.
The days stretched on, and Grace continued to subtly manipulate those around her, weaving her trauma into every conversation, every request. She became adept at turning their guilt into currency, using it to buy her way out of responsibilities and obligations. The family, still healing, was too fragile to confront her head-on.
But Emily knew that this couldn’t last forever. The cracks were starting to show, and the once-united family was beginning to feel the strain. A confrontation was coming, and when it did, it would test the Jenkins family in ways they hadn’t yet imagined.
But for now, Grace was untouchable, her suffering still holding the family in its grip.
The saga was far from over...
Fortune is a techno-realist who helps businesses adapt to new digital innovations. He can be contacted at https://topmate.io/ ryan_fortune