Dante watched Carrie struggle to speak while Sarah held her close.
Her tears came faster each time she tried to explain what happened at home, and the words kept breaking apart in her throat.
Realizing that forcing her to continue would only deepen the pain, Dante stepped forward with a grave expression.
“Mom, let me explain.” Sarah looked toward him without releasing Carrie.
Dante took a slow breath and considered how much he should reveal.
“Carrie’s mother is an extreme religious fanatic.
Margaret believes women are born carrying sin.
She treats sex, pregnancy, puberty, and other natural parts of life as punishments from God.” Carrie’s fingers tightened around Sarah’s sleeve.
Dante saw the fear return to her eyes but continued because his mother needed to understand the seriousness of the situation.
“Margaret has spent years forcing those beliefs onto Carrie.
She uses religion to control everything Carrie thinks, wears, says, and does.
Carrie has lived her whole life feeling guilty for things that were never wrong.” Sarah’s expression hardened as she listened.
She had encountered abusive parents during her legal career, but Carrie’s situation seemed especially cruel.
“Her mother never taught her anything about growing up,” Dante continued.
“She wanted Carrie to remain ignorant because fear made her easier to control.
Whenever something happened that Carrie didn’t understand, Margaret convinced her it was proof that she was sinful.” Carrie’s breathing became uneven.
Her gaze moved toward the floor as old memories rushed back.
“When Carrie disobeys, Margaret hits her with the Bible or drags her through the house.
Then she locks her inside a prayer closet filled with disturbing religious images and forces her to beg for forgiveness.” Dante clenched one hand at his side.
Anger entered his voice despite his effort to remain calm.
“Carrie doesn’t even need to do anything wrong.
If she expresses an opinion or tries to make her own decision, Margaret treats it as rebellion.
That closet has become a prison she uses whenever Carrie shows any independence.” Sarah looked down at the frightened girl in her arms.
It was difficult to imagine a mother deliberately placing her child through years of psychological torture.
Carrie’s breathing grew faster.
Her emotions rose with every detail Dante described, and the pressure inside the room began to change.
The air seemed to vibrate.
A faint buzzing came from the light fixture above them.
It flickered once before shining with unnatural brightness.
Carrie raised her head in alarm.
Bang!
The living-room light exploded.
Glass fragments scattered across the floor as the room plunged into darkness.
Carrie screamed and curled into herself with both arms covering her head.
Sarah flinched at the sudden blast but recovered almost immediately.
She pulled Carrie closer and shielded the girl with her body.
“It’s okay.
You’re safe.” Carrie shook uncontrollably against her chest.
The explosion had only strengthened her belief that something terrible lived inside her.
“I did it,” she whispered.
“Something is wrong with me.” “No.” Sarah held her tighter and rubbed one hand across her back.
“None of this is your fault.
You were frightened.” Carrie continued trembling as tears soaked Sarah’s shirt.
She expected anger or accusations, but Sarah offered only patience and warmth.
Dante looked toward the ruined light fixture.
Carrie’s telekinesis had reacted to her emotional distress without conscious direction.
Her abilities were already becoming stronger.
Sarah waited until Carrie’s breathing slowed before looking toward Dante.
Compassion remained in her eyes, but her expression carried the determination of an experienced attorney who had already reached a decision.
“Carrie is staying here tonight.” Dante nodded.
“This child has suffered far too much,” Sarah continued.
“We are not sending her back into that house while her mother is behaving this way.” Carrie slowly raised her head.
Sarah gently wiped the tears from her cheek.
“Tomorrow morning I’ll contact the police and child protective services.
We’ll make sure your mother cannot continue hurting you.” Fear entered Carrie’s eyes again.
“My mother will be angry.” “She may be angry, but that does not give her the right to abuse you.” Sarah kept her voice gentle yet firm.
“You deserve to feel safe in your own home.” Carrie did not know how to respond.
No adult had ever defended her against Margaret before.
The Connor house grew quiet as the night deepened.
John helped clean the broken glass while Sarah prepared a place for Carrie to sleep in Lily’s room.
Everything inside the bedroom felt unfamiliar to her.
The clean blankets, soft pillows, and small decorations created a warmth that did not exist inside the White house.
There were no frightening religious statues watching from the shadows.
There was no narrow closet waiting to imprison her if she said the wrong thing.
Carrie lay beneath the blanket with her eyes wide open.
The day’s fear still lingered inside her, and every sound from the hallway made her tense.
The bedroom door opened slowly.
Sarah entered with a glass of warm water.
She moved carefully so she would not startle Carrie and placed it on the nightstand beside the bed.
“Try to get some sleep, sweetheart.
Things will look better in the morning.” Carrie watched her with uncertainty.
Sarah’s kindness felt comforting, but it was also so unfamiliar that she did not know how to accept it.
Sarah leaned down and gently brushed several strands of hair away from Carrie’s face.
“You’re safe here.” After offering one last reassuring smile, Sarah straightened and quietly left the room.
Carrie pulled the blanket higher until only her eyes remained visible.
Part of her still expected Margaret to appear at the door and drag her home.
A few minutes later, Dante stepped inside.
He noticed the fear in her eyes and stopped near the foot of the bed instead of approaching too quickly.
“Don’t worry about tomorrow.
My mom is one of the best lawyers in Derry.
Once she decides to help someone, she doesn’t stop halfway.” Carrie studied his face.
“Can she really help me?” “She can.” Dante gave her a confident smile.
“Margaret won’t be able to lock you away and pretend nothing happened.” Some of the tension left Carrie’s shoulders.
“I’ll also tell the school that you won’t be coming tomorrow,” Dante added.
“Stay here and rest until everything is sorted out.” Carrie nodded beneath the blanket.
“Okay.” Dante moved toward the door.
“Good night, Carrie.” Her voice followed him before he could leave.
“Good night, Dante.” He closed the door softly and returned to his bedroom.
Carrie remained awake for several more minutes, though the warmth of the unfamiliar bed slowly eased her fear.
For the first time in years, she fell asleep without worrying that Margaret would lock her inside the prayer closet.
The next morning, pale sunlight passed through a layer of thin clouds above Derry.
Dante got out of bed earlier than usual and quickly washed before heading downstairs.
He spoke briefly with Sarah about Carrie.
His mother planned to remain home with her until the police and social services arrived.
Dante ate a quick breakfast and left for the school bus stop.
The bus arrived several minutes later with a low rumble.
Its yellow paint had faded in places, and the engine sounded as though it had survived several decades without proper maintenance.
Dante climbed aboard.
Several students immediately turned toward him.
Greetings came from different rows as he moved down the aisle.
“Morning, Dante.” “Hey, man.” “Are you coming to practice later?” Dante smiled and answered each person as he passed.
His popularity came from more than his appearance.
He earned the highest grades in school, performed well in nearly every sport, and possessed enough natural charm to make people remember him.
He reached an empty window seat and sat down.
The bus soon began moving again as familiar houses and streets passed outside.
Several stops later, the brakes released a sharp hiss.
The folding door opened and Maria Brennan stepped aboard.
Her dark hair framed a delicate face that could have belonged in a portrait.
Her slender figure and quiet movements gave her a fragile beauty that naturally drew attention.
Maria did not seem to notice the admiring glances.
Her eyes remained lowered as she held her books against her chest.
The tension in her shoulders revealed that she feared the students around her far more than she feared falling on the ice.
She started toward the back of the bus.
A leg suddenly stretched across the aisle and blocked her path.
Maria stopped.
Mark leaned against his seat with an amused expression.
Several boys around him began laughing when they saw fear spread across her face.
“What’s wrong, Maria?” one of them asked.
“Forget how to walk?” More laughter filled the narrow bus.
Maria looked toward Mark’s shoe and hesitated.
She could step over his leg, but she knew he might trip her the moment she tried.
Mark’s smile widened as the silence continued.
“Mark.” Dante’s voice cut through the laughter.
The students nearby turned toward him.
Dante remained seated by the window, but the coldness in his eyes erased every trace of his usual relaxed attitude.
“If you want to keep that leg, move it.” Mark looked toward him and immediately became angry.
Being challenged in front of his friends made humiliation burn across his face.
“What?” Mark snapped.
“Does my leg bother you, Mr.
Perfect?” One of his friends forced a laugh.
“Look at that.
Someone’s actually defending Maria.” Several other boys joined him, but their laughter weakened when Dante’s gaze moved across them.
Within seconds, the sound died completely.
No one wanted to discover whether Dante’s warning had been serious.
Maria remained the school’s designated target.
Students mocked her quiet personality and treated her fear as entertainment.
Anyone who believed her beauty should have protected her from bullying could not have been more wrong.
[Community Goals Ongoing]