Riley's eyes narrowed, and she put on her usual act, a sickly-sweet mask of concern. "Vernon only came back to care for you after your miscarriage, and this is how you repay him? No gratitude?"
"I appreciate his concern," I replied, "but I don’t need it. Now, please, leave. Immediately."
The slap came fast and hard; his hand cracked across my face, a sting that left me breathless.
"This is my house," Vernon said coldly, his voice unyielding. "I’ll stay as long as I want. You don’t get to decide."
I froze, the words sinking in. He was right. This was his house. What power did I have to oppose him?
Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked out, each step echoing with the weight of defeat.
At two in the morning, the late-autumn streets stood eerily still, the air thick with an unsettling silence. A bitter wind sliced through my lace nightgown, causing me to shiver uncontrollably.
I sank down onto the bench at the bus stop, my eyes following the dead leaves as they danced across the empty road. Tears started to fall without my permission, hot and endless.
No phone. No money. No place to go.