At my sister’s wedding, she looked me straight in the eye and said, “APOLOGIZE OR GET OUT! WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE,” RIGHT IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. I just stood there, turning away. THE NEXT DAY, she called and said, “LEILA, I NEED THE FARM KEYS.” I took a deep breath and replied with FOUR WORDS SHE WILL NEVER FORGET.
Chapter 1: A Fake Royal Wedding
The June heat in Texas was scorching, but nothing was hotter than the oppressive atmosphere inside the wedding ballroom at the prestigious Driskill Hotel in Austin.
My sister, Vanessa, had always dreamed of a royal wedding. And today, that dream had come true. A lavish party with 300 guests, a ballroom filled with imported white rose petals from Ecuador, and a towering seven-tiered wedding cake. The groom was Brad, a spoiled rich kid from a real estate family, with a fake smile and a quiet mind.
I, Leila, sat at table number 19 – the table hidden behind a pillar, reserved for distant relatives or less welcome guests. Ironically, I was the bride’s sister.
I wore a blue bridesmaid dress – a color Vanessa knew I hated because it tickled my skin. But I wore it anyway. I hadn’t arrived yet. I still smiled. Because it was my promise to my grandfather, who tried too hard: “Try to get along with the family, Leila. Until you can’t stand it anymore.”
My family – my parents and Vanessa – always considered me eccentric. While they indulged in lavish parties, Gucci, and Instagram-worthy lives, I chose to live on my grandfather’s old farm, working in the fields, raising livestock, and running an agricultural conservation company. To them, I was the “country girl” who brought shame and sorrow to the family.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the host announced. “Please welcome our beautiful bride, Vanessa, to say a few words.”
Vanessa stepped onto the stage, resplendent in her expensive Vera Wang gown. She held the microphone, her gaze sweeping across the crowd, receiving enthusiastic applause. She spoke of love, destiny, and gratitude to her parents.
Then her gaze settled on me.
Vanessa’s smile faltered. She responded to the pain in my neck. I wore an old gold chain with a rough emerald pendant. It was the only memento my grandmother left me. This morning, Vanessa was ready to offer it to me as “something old” to wear at my wedding, but I refused. That was the last thing I said.
Vanessa’s eyes held the angry glare of a spoiled child. She’d had too much champagne.
“Before we raise our glasses,” Vanessa said into the microphone, her voice suddenly cold and sharp, echoing through the silent hall. “I want to talk about selfishness.”
I was setting the whole scene on fire. My parents were at the first table. Quiet.
“My sister, Leila,” Vanessa pointed directly at me in the corner of the room. The spotlight immediately shone on me, blinding me. “She’s sitting there, her face covered in flowers, wearing the necklace she knows I, the bride, longed for in this day and age. She’s always trying to tempt me. She’s always ruining my happiness.”
I was speechless. My heart pounded. 300 pairs of eyes were staring at me as if I were a criminal.
“Vanessa, stop,” Brad tried to pull his wife’s hand away, but she pushed him away.
“No! I can’t take it anymore!” Vanessa yelled, the alcohol making her lose control. She looked straight into my eyes, through the bright light, and screamed:
“LEILA! APOLOGIZE OR GET OUT! WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE!”
There was no frost in the air. My parents didn’t stand up to defend me. My mother even turned away, pressed a shopping cart, and joined in the emotional outburst with her daughter.
I sat there, my hand gripping my grandmother’s cord. Rebuilding my collection. But, unbeknownst to me, after the pain came a strange peace. My promise to my grandfather had been fulfilled. I had tried. And now, I had reached my limit.
I didn’t read. I didn’t argue. I didn’t apologize.
I got up, adjusted my awful blue dress. I grabbed my handbag, relaxed high, and walked out of the empty room. The sound of my shoes echoed steadily in the silence of the dead.
I quietly turned my back. And I left their lives behind.
Chapter 2: The Secret of the “Silver Creek” Farm
I drove my old Ford pickup truck out of Austin, speeding through the Texas hills into the night.
They knew nothing. They thought I was just a gardener tending my grandfather’s old farm. They thought the 500-acre “Silver Creek” farm was family property, and after my grandfather’s death six months ago, ownership hadn’t been clearly divided. Vanessa and her parents planned to turn it into a luxury resort and high-end wedding venue to make millions of dollars.
The truth is: Vanessa’s lavish wedding today was paid for with her parents’ last remaining savings, plus credit card loans. They’re now setting up all the next steps.
Managed at Silver Creek, the estate was mortgaged to the bank for capital and to pay off debts.
But my grandfather and his private lawyer kept a secret until the very last minute, a secret only I knew.
My grandfather greatly admired my parents and Vanessa’s pragmatism. He knew they would sell the land, cut down the trees, and abandon the family legacy. So, in his secret will, revealed only to me, he left a message…
They gave me, Leila Vance, the entire Silver Creek estate with absolute control.
I hadn’t spoken to them yet. I intended to go after the wedding, when everything was settled, to sit down and talk about me keeping the farm and giving them a share of the income from sustainable farming.
But tonight, Vanessa took that opportunity away from me. She dragged me outside. She said, “We don’t want you here.”
Safe.
I arrived at the farm at 2 a.m. The old wooden house gleamed in the moonlight. I stroked the old wild dog and went into my grandfather’s study.
On the desk was a stack of documents I’d been working on for a week. It was a letter of offer from the Texas Nature Conservation Organization. They wanted to buy all 500 acres to turn it into a permanent conservation area, preventing any commercial construction. Their offer was lower than the market price for resort real estate, but it ultimately guaranteed my grandfather’s wish: to preserve the land and the forest.
I prepared, thinking of my family. I thought my parents needed the money for retirement. I thought Vanessa needed capital for her business.
But the image of Vanessa pointing at me and yelling, “Get out!”, and the silence of my parents, dispelled all my preparatory work.
I picked up my pen. I signed the money transfer document. I took a picture of the signed document, emailed it to the lawyer for the Conservation Organization, and requested the funds be transferred before 9 a.m. the next day.
Then, I gathered my belongings, put the dog in the car. I locked the front door, hung a brand-new sign that I had just painted on the gate.
I drove away at dawn, leaving the past and those unworthy behind.
Chapter 3: The Unscrupulous Call
11 a.m. the next day.
I was sitting in a cafe in a small town 200 miles away when my phone started ringing incessantly.
Vanessa called. Mom called. Dad called.
I let the phone ring continuously. I nibbled on my croissant, enjoying the sweet feeling of homemade treats.
Finally, I decided to answer Vanessa’s nineteenth call. I wanted to hear her voice.
“Hi?” I said, my voice calm.
“Leila! Where are you?” Vanessa yelled into the phone, the wind whistling on the other end. She seemed to be outdoors. “I’ve been calling you non-stop! Why did you turn it off?”
“What do you want?”
“What do you want? I need you to open the gate immediately! Brad, I and the entire photography team are standing in front of the Silver Creek farm gate! The old gate code isn’t working! You changed the code, didn’t you?”
I listened in silence. It turned out Vanessa’s honeymoon plan involved bringing an entire entourage to the farm to take “desert-style” wedding photos and immediately begin surveying the site for a resort. She treated the farm like her own.
“Leila, are you listening to me?” Vanessa’s voice became sharp. “Stop playing childish games about last night. I was just a little drunk. Open the gate now. The film crew charges by the hour! Besides, Mom and Dad are on their way. We need a family meeting to discuss the mortgage transfer. I need the gifts urgently.”
Her shamelessness made me nauseous. Just last night, she chased me away like a mangy dog in front of 300 people. This morning, she’s ordering me around like a servant.
“Leila, I need the farm keys!” she yelled. “Don’t make me open the gate!”
I shut down my browser. I took a deep breath, feeling the air rush through my veins.
I recalled the feeling of the night before. I remembered their greed when they discussed cutting down the ancient, safe forest to build an infinity pool. I remembered my grandfather’s final moments.
And I answered her.
Chapter 4: Four Last Words
“Vanessa,” I said softly. “You don’t need the key.”
“What are you saying? You mean you left the gate open? Fine. I’ll come in.”
“No,” I interrupted. “Did you look at the sign on the gate?”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. I heard the crunching of footsteps on the gravel, and then Vanessa instinctively did it.
“What is this? ‘Area under Texas Conservation Organization control – No trespassing’? What kind of crazy joke is this, Leila?”
“This isn’t a joke,” I said. “This is the truth.”
“Really? Are you crazy? This is family land! You have no right…”
“Grandpa left everything to you, Vanessa. You alone. He clearly has the right to determine the value of everything.”
“What… what? No way! My parents said…”
“My parents were wrong. And you’re all wrong too. Do you think I’m some naive country girl who only knows how to grow vegetables? I completed all the legal procedures this morning.”
“What procedures? What did you do?” Vanessa’s voice began to change.
Running, evolution crept into every word. She began to realize the gravity of the situation. She was drowning in debt after the wedding, and the farm was her only lifeline.
“Leila… what are you doing? Open the gate for me. We’re sisters. I’m sorry about last night, okay? Open the gate!”
I chuckled.
“I SOLD it.”
Four words. Just four words, but their weight was enough to crush an entire world.
A fantastical world.
“You… you sold it?” Vanessa clung to me. “To whom? How much? Where’s the money? Transfer it to me! I need it to pay off my wedding debts!”
“I sold it to the Conservation Organization,” I replied, my voice icy. “To make sure no one in this family, especially you, can cut down even a single tree there. Now it’s a permanent nature reserve, Vanessa. No resort, no luxury campsite, no mortgage.”
“YOU’RE CRAZY! YOU’VE RUINED ME!” Vanessa’s scream was so deafening I had to hold the phone away. “I’LL SUE YOU! I’LL KILL YOU! WHERE’S THE MONEY? WHERE’S THE MONEY FROM SELLING THE LAND?”
“Money?” I looked at the updated bank account balance on the computer screen. It wasn’t a huge sum, but enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life. “I kept a little to start a new life somewhere far away. The rest I donated to my grandfather’s scholarship.”
“NOOOOOOO!!!”
“The person said, ‘We don’t want you guys here.’ I’m doing exactly as they asked. And I’ll bring the ‘farm’ that the owners want. Have a great week everyone with Brad… in the parking lot.”
My server. Then, I pulled out the SIM card, logged out, and threw it in the trash.
Chapter 5: The Consequences of Cruelty
One month later.
I was in Montana, in a small cabin overlooking the Rocky Mountains. Life here was peaceful, no fake parties, no prying eyes.
I opened my laptop, curious to find news about my old family.
The search wasn’t difficult. A local newspaper in Austin had published: “Vance Family Scandal: Bride in Debt After Lavish Wedding, Apartment Seized by Bank.”
The article detailed how Vanessa and Brad squandered money on their extravagant wedding, convinced they would use Silver Creek Farm as collateral to pay off their debts. When their plans crumbled, their empty “empire” fell apart like dominoes.
My parents were the same. They had secured Vanessa’s loans. Now they had to sell their city home to pay off the debt and move into a dilapidated apartment building.
And the best part? Silver Creek Farm has partially opened up to the public, allowing children to learn about nature. It’s not a concrete resort at all. The ancient, dead trees still stand there, silent and self-sufficient, forever protected from human greed.
I clicked on a hot tea.
They underestimated me. They thought I was weak because I was silent. They thought I was stupid because I wasn’t materialistic.
But they forgot that the one who holds the land is the one who holds the real power. And when someone leaves their house, make sure you’re not standing on their own piece of land.
Vanessa would never forget that. “I agree.”
That was a life sentence for her melodiousness, and a self-made contract for my life.
When I was 32 weeks pregnant with twins, I took my car to the hospital. My mother-in-law blocked the door and said, “Take us to the mall first.” A while later, a stranger came and took me into the emergency room—and when my husband finally walked in, what he said shocked everyone.
Chapter 1: The Storm Inside Me
The July heat in Arizona wasn’t ordinary heat. It was an invisible monster, melting the asphalt and creating a dynamic atmosphere like a mirage. But the heat outside the double-glazed windows of my suburban home was nothing compared to the storm raging inside me.
I, Sarah, was 32 weeks pregnant with twins. I felt as light as a balloon. My ankles were twice as swollen as normal, and my skin felt chapped and cracked. But the scariest thing wasn’t the physical discomfort.
It was a headache. A rebound headache, accompanied by a glaring sensation whenever I tried to focus on something.
I’m a nurse (though on leave to produce a Thai product), I knew those signs. **Before the product was released**. My condition worsened. It wasn’t just dangerous, it felt like death was knocking at the door.
I made the difficult choice to walk into the living room. There, my husband, David, and my mother-in-law, Eleanor, were sitting on the sofa watching television. Eleanor was scrolling through her iPad, looking at Nordstrom’s new summer collection.
“David,” I called, my voice weak from writing. “I need to go to the hospital. Immediately.”
David approached, still holding the TV remote. He looked at me, his pale blue eyes—eyes that had once captivated me—now showing weariness and… discomfort.
“What’s wrong, Sarah?” David
She interrupted. “I had a checkup last week. The doctor said everything’s fine.”
“Not fine at all,” I clung to the railing, sweat dripping from my eyebrows. “Everything’s blurry. My head is pounding. I think I’m taking my blood pressure off. We need to go to the obstetrics and gynecology department.”
Eleanor put down her iPad and adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, scrutinizing me from head to toe with her usual watch face.
“Oh dear, it’s probably just another case of ‘overreaction’ during pregnancy,” she said, her voice sharp. “When I was pregnant with David, I was more mentally exhausted than anything else. Women these days are so weak.”
“Mom, this is our family money,” I tried to explain, suppressing my anger. “It could kill me and both of us.”
“Okay, okay,” David reluctantly stood up. “Let me get the car keys.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was still sane.
But as David reached for the car keys, Eleanor jumped up and ran after me.
### Chapter 2: The Life Agreement
“Wait, David,” Eleanor said sharply. “I promised to take you to Scottsdale Fashion Square this afternoon, didn’t I? Today is the last day of the big sale. You need to buy a dress for the charity event next week.”
David fell silent. He looked at his mother, then at me. His inherent weakness was beginning to show. David was the type who would never easily say “No” to his mother, who had manipulated him since he was a child.
“Mom, Sarah is in pain…” David groaned reflexively.
“She’s always in pain!” Eleanor said. “She has backaches, legaches, headaches. She keeps trying to swim at our times. Look at her, her face is rosy (actually, flushed red from high blood pressure), how could she possibly die?”
She turned to me, crossed her arms, and stood in the doorway.
“Want to go to the hospital? No, no. But first, let’s go to the mall. It’s right on the way. Drop me off there, and then you two can go wherever you want.”
I couldn’t believe my ears.
“What did you just say?” I asked, my voice trembling. “You want me…in this condition…to be stuck in traffic for another 45 minutes just to take you shopping?”
“We’re on our way!” She shrugged. “Don’t be selfish, Sarah. David works hard all week; he only has time for his mother on weekends.”
I turned to David, my eyes pleading. “David, please. I can’t wait any longer. I feel… something’s wrong with the twins. We’re not going anymore.”
David glanced at his watch, then at his mother’s sulky face. He had made a decision—the worst decision of his life.
“Sarah,” David said, avoiding my gaze. “The mall is nearby. Or… how about we take Mom there and then go? It’ll only take another 20 minutes. Try to breathe evenly. Mom’s right, maybe you’re overthinking things.”
My world had become more peaceful.
Not for the first reason. But because of the coldness of the man I called my husband. He had chosen his mother’s discounted dress over the lives of his wife and children.
“Get out of the way!” I yelled, a surge of intense strength welling up inside me. I lunged toward the door.
Eleanor didn’t move. She stood there.
She stood there like a rock, sneering, “Are you going to walk? You don’t know how to drive. Get in the car and wait for David.”
“I’ve already changed.”
“I said GET OUT OF THE WAY!” I yelled at her. She recoiled, utterly astonished that her usually thin frame dared to defy me.
I hastily grabbed the spare car keys from the shoe rack and dashed out the door.
But as I stepped out into the 43°C Arizona heat, a wave of dizziness washed over me. Everything seemed to fade. The keys slipped from my grasp. I fell onto the dry, barren grass in front of the house.
I heard Eleanor yell from inside: “Look, David! She’s putting on a show! Don’t go in and help her!” “Just leave her there and learn from her mistakes!”
And David… didn’t come out.
### Chapter 3: The Angel in the Orange Vest
I lay on the grass, feeling the heat burning my skin. My consciousness was fading. I clutched my stomach and whispered an apology to my two little children. *Mommy is sorry. Mommy chose the wrong person for you.*
The screeching of brakes echoed.
It wasn’t David’s car.
A FedEx delivery truck had stopped right in front of my house.
A large, dark-skinned man in an orange and purple uniform jumped out. He was carrying a package, but when he saw me lying on the grass, he dropped it and rushed over.
“Miss! Are you alright?” His voice was full of concern.
I could barely open my eyes. “Help… me… to the hospital…”
The man looked at my pale face, then glanced at the house where David and his mother were looking out the window (they hadn’t come out yet). He understood immediately. He didn’t ask any further questions.
“I’m Marcus. I’ll take you.”
Marcus lifted me up as gently as possible, even though I weighed nearly 90kg. He placed me in the passenger seat of the delivery truck and fastened my seatbelt.
“Give it to me.”
“Hold on tight,” he said, then jumped into the driver’s seat.
The large truck started its engine. Marcus wasn’t driving like a delivery driver anymore. He was driving like a Formula 1 racer. He weaved through traffic, ran red lights, and weaved through congested crowds.
“Don’t fall asleep!” Marcus yelled when he saw me leave. “Talk to me! What’s your name?”
“Sarah…” I whispered.
“Okay, Sarah. I have three kids. My wife is just like you. You’ll be fine. We’re almost there.”
In my delirium, I found David’s Audi that we’d driven out of the garage. But he didn’t follow me. He had to.
Directions to the shopping mall.
My tears boiled, hot and mingling with sweat. My love for David died in that very moment.
Chapter 4: The Boundary Between Life and Death
Phoenix Memorial Hospital.
Marcus met me the moment I entered the emergency room, shouting, “Pregnant! Twins! Seizures! We need a doctor immediately!”
Nurses and doctors rushed to my aid. I was fully prepared.
“Blood pressure 210/110! Fetal heart rate dropping! Emergency!”
The machines beeped incessantly. The clanging of metal. Torn clothing.
“We have to act immediately! She’s having placental abruption!”
An anesthesiologist placed an oxygen mask over my face. “Sarah, we’ll be there to help the babies. Do your best.”
Before I was completely unconscious, I grabbed the nurse’s hand.
“Give it to me…” I whispered.
“Is he coming?” the nurse asked.
“Don’t… choose… to… hit… me…”
Then everything went silent.
***
I woke up in the intensive care unit (ICU). My throat was dry, aching, and twitching as if it were being torn apart.
“Sarah?” A voice called from the shop.
It was my sister, Emily. She was crying and clutching my hand.
“My weaknesses…?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“The babies are in the neonatal intensive care unit,” Emily said, crying and laughing at the same time. “Two boys. Premature, weak lungs, but the doctors say they’re very healthy. They’ll survive.”
I burst into tears. I was still alive. I was still alive.
“Who called you?”
“A man named Marcus. He used my phone to call the emergency number. He waited outside for four hours until you arrived.”
“And what about David?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
Emily’s face turned serious. “He’s not here. I’ve called him twenty times.” He wasn’t answering.
I looked at the wall clock. Six hours had passed since I entered the library.
Six o’clock.
### Chapter 5: The Clear Consensus on the Crime
An hour later, as I was being transferred back to the regular recovery room, the door burst open.
David walked in.
Next came Eleanor.
And the most horrifying thing, the thing that gave both the nurses and Emily peace of mind: **They were carrying shopping bags.**
*Nordstrom bag*.*****Sephora bag*.******Macy’s bag*.
They walked into the ward as if they’d just finished a game and gone straight to the café. David looked a little flustered, but Eleanor remained calm, though her makeup was slightly smudged by the heat.
“Oh, you’re awake?” Eleanor said, setting the shopping bags down on the family sofa. “What was all the commotion?” “Your mother called the hospital and they said the surgery was over, so she told David to finish shopping first to avoid unnecessary travel.”
David approached my bed. He tried to take my hand, but I pulled it away.
The body was crushed.
“Are you okay?” David asked, his tone as if he were asking if I was alright.
“I’m not having dinner, David.” “I was so worried about you (a lie to cover it up). We were planning to come earlier, but the traffic was terrible.”
Emily stood up, her face flushed with anger: “Are you crazy, David? Your wife is dead! Your child is in an incubator! And you’re out shopping?”
“Cancel it, Emily,” David waved his hand. “Don’t make a fuss. Sarah’s fine. Besides, my mother needs to prepare for the party. You know her temper.”
The nurses in the room exchanged glances, their eyes filled with disgust at this husband.
But David didn’t stop there. He looked around the room, then at me, and uttered fateful words – words that silenced everyone in the room.
### Chapter 6: The Snail’s Ladder
David lowered his voice, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket – the temporary library receipt the receptionist had just given him.
He looked at me, his face showing no relief or worry for the twins. Instead, his face was flushed with anger.
“Sarah, I need you to explain this immediately. Why did you let the truck driver go safely? And more importantly, why did you book a VIP room? Do you know my mother had to return her favorite Hermès handbag just because I was afraid my credit card would exceed its limit? You’re so helpful! You ruined my mother’s whole day and embarrassed her at the checkout!”
The room fell silent.
The hum of the air conditioner was clearly audible.
Em
Ily’s mouth dropped open, unable to respond.
The nurse dropped the medicine tray to the floor. *Crash.*
He didn’t ask where the children were.
He didn’t ask if I was hurt.
He was angry because the driver had taken away my internet connection.
And he was angry because… his mother’s handbag.
Eleanor, standing behind him, nodded in agreement: “That’s right! That bag is a limited edition! My mother had to return it out of embarrassment. What a wasteful daughter-in-law! Demanding a luxury room before she dies? Next time she gives birth, she should give birth at home, it’ll be cheaper!”
Their cruelty and ignorance had exceeded all human limits.
I looked at David. At the man I had loved for five years. I suddenly realized, I hadn’t married a man. I had married a puppet, a parasite clinging to my mother’s skirts.
I took a deep breath. What was the pain of the wound compared to the cold, numb feeling that was invading my mind?
“David,” I said. My voice was soft but resonant and full of strength.
“What?” David asked.
“You said you were afraid of exceeding your credit card limit, right?”
“That’s right! You’re the primary cardholder!” (He was completely wrong.)
I laughed.
**”You’re wrong, David. You were never the primary cardholder. You were just the authorized user. All the bank accounts, the house we live in, and even the Audi you just drove to the mall… are in my name and part of the surplus assets before our marriage ended.”**
David paid attention. “You… what did you just say?”
“I let you think you were the breadwinner because I wanted to interact with you,” I continued, each word like a final stab. “But this afternoon, when you turned your back on me and left me to die, I called my lawyer right there in the ambulance.”
I pulled my phone from under the pillow.
**”I’ve frozen all your accounts. I’ve accessed your and your mother’s secondary cards. The reason you can’t pay for the Hermès bag isn’t the hospital bill…it’s because I cut off your financial support three hours ago.”**
### Chapter 7: The Price to Pay
Eleanor’s face went from flushed to pale, then purple. She screamed, “You…you bastard! You froze my account? I’m your mother-in-law!”
“Not anymore,” I replied coldly. “For security reasons!”
Two hospital security guards—who had been standing outside and heard everything—immediately entered. They hadn’t cooperated with this family since they arrived with their shopping bags.
“Everyone, please leave,” the security guard said, his hand on his baton.
“This is my husband! I have the right to stay!” David yelled, trying to rush toward the hospital.
“You have no right to do anything,” I said. “I signed medical authorization for Emily. And I also filed for an emergency marriage and a restraining order against the children for domestic violence and neglect. A warning is being sent for me to give a statement to the employment services this afternoon.”
“Malice? I didn’t hit you!” David snapped.
“Leaving a pregnant woman being robbed in 43-degree heat to go shopping is intentional injury and attempted murder,” Emily added, her voice sharp.
David looked at me, then at his mother. Eleanor had lost her usual composure. Her son’s only source of income – me – was gone. She started crying, playing the victim: “Sarah, I was just joking! David is so innocent, he only listens to me! Please forgive me!”
“Get them out. Immediately!” I ordered, turning my back and walking away.
As they left the room, David’s screams still echoed: “S
Arah! You can’t do that! I have nowhere else to go! Is this your home? Sarah!!!”
### Chapter 8: A New Dawn
Three days later, my article was published.
I didn’t return to my old house.
I changed the locks and put the house up for sale that same week. I moved to a luxury apartment near Emily’s.
The twins, Leo and Max, had to stay in the neonatal intensive care unit for another three weeks, but their health was improving and they were becoming more resilient.
And what about David and Eleanor?
Their lives crumbled faster than a sandcastle before the waves.
Due to budget cuts, David couldn’t afford his gambling debts (another secret my lawyer had uncovered). The Audi was repossessed by the bank. They were evicted.
Eleanor had to move to a state-run senior library because David couldn’t afford her rent.
David had to work as a sales clerk at the very mall he’d abandoned me to go to – a cruel twist of fate. Destiny.
Six months later.
I was pushing a double stroller in the park. It was autumn in Arizona, the weather cool and pleasant.
A FedEx truck pulled up by the side of the road. Marcus got out, carrying a gift box. Since his return, Marcus had become the godfather of the two children. He was the closest friend I’d ever met.
“Hi, boys!” Marcus laughed loudly and tickled Leo in the stomach.
I looked at Marcus, then at my two little angels. I remembered that fateful day. Out, it hurt, remember it.
If David hadn’t been so cruel, perhaps I would still be living in weakness, still a slave to that toxic family. His betrayal was a heavy blow, but it healed my life.
I smiled, breathing in the fresh air. No more shopping. No more unreasonable demands. Just me and my children, walking together on our own paths.
