The woman who “killed” Ariel.
Eleven years.
Eleven years of swallowing insults, cruelty, cold stares, and whispered accusations.
And today?
Today, I finally hit the end of whatever was left inside me.
I was done waiting for them to love me.
Done begging for scraps of kindness.
Today, I made my choice. Today, I decided to leave.
After I ended the call, I stood still for a moment, forcing my breathing to slow while my heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to escape.
I wasn’t going to cry.
Not again.
I’d spent eleven years shedding tears over that house, those boys, and the man who treated me like a spare part. I’d cried enough to last a lifetime. This time, I swore I’d straighten my spine, lift my chin, and find Magnus—face-to-face—and tell him I was done.
Music drifted down the corridor, loud and cruelly cheerful. The twins’ birthday banquet had already begun. The entire estate sounded like it was celebrating something worth cheering for.
I opened the wardrobe and grabbed the first dress I saw. Soft pink. Simple. Too gentle for a place built on violence and power. I slipped it on, smoothed the fabric with shaking hands, and stepped out.