Chapter 2: The Drive
I drove with both hands steady on the wheel, the city lights of the evening blurring past the windows. My cheek still burned where Garrick’s palm had connected, but the physical sting was already fading. What remained was cleaner and far more useful: clarity.
Three years of careful silence had ended in a single afternoon. I replayed the scene as I drove—not to torture myself, but to preserve every detail. The way Miriam’s eyes had gleamed when Garrick struck me. The way the relatives had looked anywhere but at my face. The sound of my handbag hitting the marble. The exact pitch of Garrick’s voice when he told me I owned nothing.
I had spent so long making myself small inside that house that I had almost forgotten the truth sitting in a secure folder in my attorney’s office.
The mansion was mine.
The monthly transfers were mine.
The company that paid for Miriam’s lifestyle was mine.
I parked in the underground garage of the discreet residential building where I kept a private apartment—one Garrick had never known existed. Inside, the air was cool and still. I set my handbag on the console table, walked to the bathroom, and studied my reflection. A faint red mark remained on my left cheek. I pressed a cold cloth against it and stared into my own eyes until the last tremor of adrenaline settled.
May you like
Then I called the only person who already knew everything.
“Elena,” I said when my attorney answered. “It’s time.”
