Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
In her third year at the psychiatric hospital, the assistant nurse frowned as she walked down the hallway, kicking aside the patients huddled together in a grotesque game of human stacking. Their distorted screams scattered as the woman at the bottom was revealed, curled and motionless. Her hair obscured her face; her eyes were vacant as she heard the nurse’s harsh words.
“1030, you’ve got visitors. Get up and clean yourself.”
Home… was she referring to the family who had abandoned her here for three years? They were no longer her family.
Seeing the woman remain still, the nurse impatiently yanked her up by the hair. “Are you trying to die? Can’t you hear me?”
Yunice Saunders hugged her head as she was roughly dragged to the bathroom. The nurse turned on the high-pressure shower, spraying Yunice, crouched in the corner, like an animal in a cage.
Twenty minutes later, Yunice was taken to the visitation room. “Mr. Owen, 1030 is here.”
Yunice’s blank gaze fell on the man sitting on the couch, hands clasped, elbows on his knees, his frown conveying annoyance and suppressed emotion. This was her older brother, Owen Saunders.
Yunice’s parents had fought before her birth, and her mother left after delivering her. Her father, searching for his wife in vain, died when Yunice was thirteen. Oscar and Owen Saunders then raised Yunice, vowing to protect her. Now, seeing this familiar face, Yunice felt a sharp pain, yet her gaze remained cold. Grief was real, but so was resentment; Owen had sent her here.
Owen, too, looked at Yunice. He’d imagined a repentant reunion, his sister throwing herself into his arms. Instead, she stood coldly. His joy at bringing her home curdled; she hadn’t even greeted him.
He hesitated, then spoke in an annoyed tone. “Elsie misses you. She begged me to bring you home. From today, you can leave.” When Yunice finally reacted, his tone changed. “But there’s a condition. Once home, you mustn’t trouble Elsie.”
Yunice’s face fell. Did they believe that appeasing Elsie White would restore normalcy? Elsie had played a significant role in her confinement.
Five years prior, police had returned Yunice’s mother, missing for fifteen years, along with Elsie, a year younger than Yunice. Yunice learned her mother had been kidnapped, Elsie the child she’d been forced to bear-her half-sister.
The family reunion deeply moved Oscar and Owen, who accepted Elsie readily. Initially, Yunice embraced Elsie wholeheartedly, but Elsie constantly schemed against her. To avoid upsetting her brothers and mother, Yunice endured.
Three years ago, trapped in a fire, Elsie had insisted on saving her. Owen, reaching them first, snatched the gas mask from Yunice’s face to give to Elsie, carrying Elsie out while leaving the near-unconscious Yunice behind. Elsie then taunted Yunice, claiming she’d deliberately entered the fire to test Owen’s loyalty. The Saunders family only needed one daughter.
Yunice exposed Elsie, but Elsie threw herself into Owen’s arms, and everyone comforted her, branding Yunice cruel and ungrateful. Elsie then self-inflicted a wound while holding Yunice’s hand. Seeing the knife in Yunice’s hand, the family deemed her insane, sending her to the hospital.
Seeing Yunice’s bitterness, Owen’s anger flared. He’d come to help, but she remained ungrateful. Didn’t she want to leave?
“Are you trying to enjoy the ‘good life’ here?”
The “good life”? Yunice was stunned. He had no idea of the reality-the madmen, uncontrolled by law or decency; the clothes ripped, faces poked, the crushing weight of human stacking, the suffocation, the impunity of murder.
Owen hadn’t visited in three years; he likely pictured a peaceful rest. He saw her as a liar, a crazy person. Explanations, even scars, wouldn’t convince him. The nurses wouldn’t admit to the abuse; complaining to them was futile.
Yunice’s indifference further irritated Owen. “Your madness isn’t cured. Planning revenge on Elsie?”
He wanted a confession, but her coldness suffocated him. In anger, he kicked a nearby kettle toward Yunice. Sparks flew; Yunice jumped back, fear etched on her face, hands hidden.
Owen snapped, “If you dare touch the charcoal, I’ll believe you’re cured.”
The implication was clear-fear of fire, a consequence of the fire three years ago, would prove her uncured. He knew her fear of fire and pain; she wouldn’t dare. As long as she promised not to harm Elsie, he’d forgive her.
But Yunice reached into the fire.
“Who told you to grab it?” Owen pulled her hand away. Her palm was badly burned and bleeding. Seeing her endure the agony silently, Owen froze. She’d always craved his comfort. This was different.
His beloved sister no longer sought him. His heart tightened. “Does it hurt?”
Yunice withdrew her hand, her voice cold. “I’m better. I’m not crazy. Can I leave?”
Owen’s brow furrowed. “I came out of kindness, and you throw a tantrum? You stabbed Elsie, we didn’t send you to jail. You think I’ll pamper you because you self-harm?” His anger boiled. “If you want to leave, go ahead”
In her rush to leave, Owen wasn’t worried Yunice wouldn’t follow; she was desperate enough to grab burning coals. Sure enough, Yunice walked out of the psychiatric hospital, her gait unusual. She held her stomach, her shoulders hunched, her legs seeming too heavy to lift. The driver, Bobby, noticed. “Mr. Owen, Ms. Saunders doesn’t look well.”
Owen scoffed coldly. “She’s just acting, trying to manipulate me. I’ve spoiled her.” Even so, he noticed her thinness, pale complexion, and injured hands. He decided to take her for a checkup, preventing her from using illness as leverage.
But Yunice, seeing his car, bolted in the opposite direction. She intended to escape the Saunders family, believing Elsie had set a trap. She wanted to replace her lost ID and start over. But her injuries hampered her. Each step reopened wounds; she panted, drenched in sweat. Owen yanked her back.
“Ah!” Yunice screamed, falling hard. Her agony startled Owen; he froze, watching her curl up, as if bracing for a beating. He frowned, examining her but not helping. “If you think running away will make me worry, you’re wrong.”
At his voice, Yunice lowered her hands. This wasn’t the hospital; no one would beat her. Owen frowned. “Right now, you don’t even exist in the system. Without identification, you can’t even buy a ticket.”
No money, phone, or ID-she was stranded. She had to rely on the Saunders family.
“I don’t exist?” Yunice’s eyes widened. Elsie, the illegitimate daughter, had been a ghost in the system since arriving. Lacking birth records, she couldn’t enroll in school, buy tickets, or freely leave home. Her background was a stain, making her pitiable, so the family compensated her-even Yunice.
Yunice laughed bitterly. Her own reality mirrored what she once pitied in Elsie.
Owen, sensing her distress, explained, “After your admission, Oscar worried your reputation would suffer. He had Elsie assume your identity-school, banquets. She grew up in the mountains, Yunice. She didn’t know what a strawberry was and was terrified of embarrassing you. She studied late, collapsing from exhaustion. She did it all for you. Don’t be ungrateful.”
His disappointment was evident. Yunice chuckled humorlessly. “So now I’m better, can she return my identity?”
She knew the answer. Elsie had established herself; even if she returned the identity, people would see Yunice as the imposter. Still, she wanted Owen’s response.
He snapped. “I just explained everything, and all you care about is yourself! You didn’t ask how Elsie is doing. Three years in the psychiatric hospital, and you’re still selfish!”
Losing patience, he declared, “The psychiatric hospital is right there. If you don’t want to come home, go back inside!”
He entered the car. Bobby hesitated. “Mr. Owen, are we leaving Ms. Saunders?”
Owen ensured Yunice heard. “I was too good to her; she’s an ungrateful brat! Let her suffer; maybe she’ll understand kindness.” He rolled up the window. “Drive.”
The car sped away. Yunice didn’t glance back. She could walk home. Two hours later, she hadn’t returned.
At the cemetery, Yunice knelt, sobbing against her father’s tombstone. “Dad, I miss you… If you knew your daughter had no home, you’d be heartbroken. Dad, hold me… Owen and Mom don’t love me. They only hug Elsie…”
The stone remained silent. Only when her tears dried did she calm. Wiping her face, she cleaned the tombstone. “Dad, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t worry.”
She began digging, using a rock to pry up a tile. Beneath was a box. The Saunders family were apothecaries; their medical texts were passed down. Yunice, fascinated by ancient medicine, had secretly hidden her father’s books there as a child.
It became her last asset. Inside was an ancient medical text, a Bovine Bezoar Pill-a rare, original formula. Her body was ravaged; she had no money, ID, or access to medicine. She bit off a piece and swallowed it, carefully storing the rest.
Scanning her surroundings, she reburied her things. Elsie couldn’t know.
As she finished, a familiar yet unfamiliar voice spoke. “I knew you’d be here.”
Yunice’s back stiffened, but she didn’t turn around. It was Paul Powell, her childhood playmate and fianc?. He reached out, grabbed her shoulder, and turned her to face him with a grin. “You always run to your dad’s grave whenever you’re upset…” His smile froze. He saw Yunice’s sickly pale face; her eyes, hidden beneath long black hair, were shrunken and hollow. A chill crawled up his spine, and he instinctively withdrew his hand. He remembered she was a lunatic, capable of anything. Rumors circulated that she smeared filth on herself. The thought of touching her made his skin crawl, and he discreetly wiped his hand on a nearby tree trunk. Yunice noticed.
They had been engaged for years, and everyone, including Yunice, assumed they were a couple. This had fostered a possessive feeling within her. Rejection hurt, but Yunice’s reaction was subdued. Paul hadn’t visited her once during her three years in the psychiatric hospital. She realized there was no future between them; too much time had passed. He felt like a familiar stranger. Awkwardly, he said, “Ever since you stabbed her in a fit of madness, Elsie’s health has been poor. Now that you refuse to go home, she’s so worried she can’t eat. We’re all really concerned about her.”
Yunice smirked. “She’s been skipping meals, yet she’s still alive, isn’t she?”
Seeing Yunice unmoved, Paul’s tone hardened. “I’m telling you to go home and apologize to Elsie right now. If you don’t, you can forget about ever seeing me again.”
Yunice had been submissive to Paul, making him believe she couldn’t live without him. But years in the psychiatric hospital, waiting for salvation, had eroded her hope. She stopped expecting anything from anyone and ceased trying to please them. Letting go of her need for love, she wanted to live only for herself.
Yunice examined the burn mark on her open palm. Pain reminded her that when powerless, stubbornness only brought suffering. So she decided to go with Paul. She planned to return to the Saunders family to reclaim her identity anyway; a car ride was better than walking.
Paul, retrieving wet wipes from his car, wiped his hands outside the door. Inside, he found Yunice in the backseat-her usual spot was the passenger seat. Then he saw the sticker on the dashboard: “Princess’ Exclusive Seat. Other Girls, Sit in the Back.” His face flushed. He quickly explained, “My sister put that there as a joke. Don’t overthink it, alright?”
He expected Yunice’s usual pestering and interrogation, which annoyed him. He anticipated her jealousy if she learned Elsie placed the sticker and braced himself to lash out, accusing her of paranoia-a tactic that always worked.
To his surprise, Yunice simply replied, “Okay.” Nothing more. Paul was stunned. He waited, but Yunice showed no further interest.
He started the car. Silence filled the vehicle. Paul glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing Yunice gazing out the window with indifference. He planned to discuss breaking off the engagement, worried about her reaction, but her apathy inexplicably irritated him. The more she ignored him, the more irked he became. He slammed on the gas, speeding up.
Yunice’s timidity was gone. In the past, his fast driving would scare her, but now, even nearing the speed limit, she simply fastened her seatbelt and remained silent. The car narrowly missed a truck, making Paul break into a cold sweat. He slowed down. She didn’t even ask him to stop. He muttered, embarrassed, “You’re braver than before.”
He liked showing off his driving, enjoying Yunice’s fear, but she had never feared speed; only his injury. Now that he wasn’t her loved one, she didn’t care.