I Walked Away Seven Years Too Late But Right on Time novel Chapter 3

The train ground to a halt, and Sophie stood on the platform for a long time.

It had been two years since she'd been home to Seattle.-

For years, she had intentionally kept her distance from her hometown, her former classmates, and most of all, her mother.

She didn't like her mother. Not at all.

Her first memory of being physically punished was when she was eight. She had gone over to her best friend Molly's house to play and ended up staying for dinner without coming home on time. Her mother had searched door-to-door, and the moment she found her, she dragged her out without a word of explanation.

Molly's parents tried to intervene. They told her the girls were having fun and suggested letting Sophie finish eating before heading back.

Sophie's mother had politely apologized to them. But the second she turned to Sophie, her face was terrifyingly grim. She yanked Sophie along ruthlessly. Before they even stepped off the neighbor's porch, she began jabbing her finger into Sophie's forehead, scolding, "Have you no shame? How dare you beg for food at someone else's table?"

Molly's parents didn't dare say another word, and Molly hid behind them, completely terrified.

When they got home, her mother threw her onto the sofa and swatted her hard a few times, yelling, "If you love other people's homes so much, don't ever come back here!"

Sophie lay on the sofa, tears streaming down her face, too scared to make a sound.

She had genuinely loved Molly's house. Molly's parents were so gentle, especially her dad. Once, when she had a fever at school and her mom couldn't get off work, Molly's dad had taken her to the clinic. His back was so broad; leaning against him felt incredibly safe and warm.

Molly was her first friend in elementary school. Her best friend, and ultimately, her last.

Terrified that Molly would bring up the humiliating way she was dragged home, Sophie began avoiding her at school.

She walked to school alone and came home alone.

Her classmates called her weird. Her teachers' notes on her report cards were always the same: *Sophie is attentive and gets excellent grades. She is quiet, but needs to be more proactive in socializing and participating in group activities.*

She carried that isolation through elementary school, middle school, college, and straight into her career. She never made any real friends.

Now, besides her childhood home, she had nowhere to go and no one to confide in.

Sophie stood outside the apartment door, hesitating before knocking softly. After a long moment with no answer, she frowned.

Was her mom out?

Her mother had never been much of a social butterfly and rarely went out. Honestly, Sophie wished she would join a local book club or chat with the neighborhood ladies. She lived such a lonely life.

Sophie let herself in with her key. The apartment looked exactly as it had when she left. The pale green curtains had faded to a dusty gray, and the old sofa sank completely when she sat on it.

She choked up. Over the years, even though she rarely visited, she consistently sent money home. Why was the place still so incredibly shabby?

She unpacked her bags and started cleaning up.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify