Part 1Silence is Golden

I’m what you’d call a "Chatterbox Yandere." A Stage-5 Clinger with a motor mouth.

After school let out for the summer, I screamed "Mom!" about three hundred times a day. She finally snapped.

She personally drove me six hundred miles across state lines, tricked me into getting out of the car, and dumped me.

"Actually, sweetie, you have a childhood fiancé we arranged for you. Go harass him instead."

I turned around, and a face of absolute, icy perfection appeared before me.

My possessiveness spiked instantly. I started haunting him like a poltergeist, clinging to him 24/7.

"Location drop! Send it now!!! (Rage)"

"Who were you texting? Why did you leave me on read for thirty minutes? (Interrogation)"

"Who was that bitch kissing you in my dream last night? (Dark aura)"

"Explain yourself! Is it that hard to say a single word? Huh? (Suffocating)"

The butler looked at the boy, who looked like he wanted to un-alive himself, and whispered weakly:

"Miss... our Young Master is mute."

* * *

My dad is a possessive psycho. My mom is a ray of sunshine.

They combined their DNA and created me: a obsessive compulsive yapper.

Growing up, everyone around me lived in my shadow. My dad ran multiple psych evals on me. Only after confirming I was "all bark, no bite" did he cancel the reservation at the asylum.

Junior year summer break. My bestie said goodbye with tears in her eyes, then sprinted away like Usain Bolt.

I had no one to talk to, so I stuck to my mom like glue.

Why? Because my dad has hearing loss. He takes out his hearing aids and literally ghosts me while sitting in the same room.

One night, I had a nightmare. I knocked on their bedroom door, looking like the girl from The Ring.

They took forever to open it.

My dad didn't even hide his annoyance, his voice rasping. "Jade, what do you want now?"

I pushed past him, staring at my mom with the eyes of a Victorian widow.

"Mom, why didn't you say goodnight?"

"What were you guys doing? Why did it take five minutes to open the door?"

"Why was the door locked? We are a family! Explain!"

"Mom, I dreamed you had a second baby and threw me in the trash. You wouldn't do that, right? Hmm?"

"Why aren't you answering? Speak to me!"

My mom closed her eyes, grinding her teeth. "Do you think I’d have another kid just to punish myself? One of you is already a life sentence!"

I immediately beamed, climbing into bed to cuddle her. "Mommy, I knew you loved me most. Can you tell me the story about the dream you had when you were pregnant with me again?"

My dad’s face went cold. He reached out to drag me off the bed, but Mom stopped him.

They exchanged a look. My dad actually stopped, closed the door, and left. He didn't even look mad; he looked... pleased?

I was too immersed in the joy of being Mommy’s Favorite to overthink it.

So when she suggested a "girls' road trip," I agreed without hesitation.

The next day, I passed out as soon as I got in the car. Motion sickness is my only weakness; it shuts me up.

They looked suspiciously happy. My dad even gave me a rare smile.

I slept, woke up, slept again. I don't know how much time passed before I was physically hauled out of the car.

"We're here."

The car was parked in front of a low-key, old-money estate that screamed generational wealth.

Suitcase shoved into my hand. Dad back in driver's seat. Doors locked. Engine revved.

I snapped awake just as the car peeled out of the driveway.

Only my mom's voice drifted back on the wind:

"Baby, you actually have an arranged marriage pact with this family! Go bother your future husband! We'll pick you up when school starts!"

My face darkened instantly.

They dared to trick me?

"Miss Sterling."

A respectful, middle-aged voice called out.

I turned my head. My gloomy, murderous eyes instantly turned into heart emojis.

I take it back. Mom is a real one.

Standing there was a boy who looked like he walked out of a K-drama. Red lips, pale skin, tall and slender like bamboo.

He lowered his eyes coldly, showing zero curiosity about his sudden fiancée.

The butler in the sharp suit next to him was enthusiastic, though.

"Miss Sterling, this is our Young Master. You—"

I rushed forward like a hurricane, vibrating with excitement.

"Oh my god, I knew it. One look and I know you're my future husband!"

"What's your name?"

"Hmm? Why aren't you talking? Are you shy?"

"Fine, I'll just call you Hubby-Wubby."

Meeting his stiff, dead-inside gaze, I had an epiphany.

"Right, I shouldn't be so forward. I need parental approval. Where are your parents? Take me to pay my respects."

The butler’s face dropped.

The boy stopped looking at me, pursed his lips, and turned to walk away.