After three years of caring for little Aria, Lena never imagined she would be sent away like a stranger. No warning. No explanation. Just a polite dismissal wrapped in cold formality. She folded her clothes with shaking hands, tears blurring her vision despite her efforts to stay composed.
No one understood what had gone wrong.
Not the staff.
Not the driver.
Not even Lena herself.
That was… until the billionaire’s daughter leaned close to her father’s ear and whispered something that left him frozen in place.
The unfairness weighed heavier than any suitcase Lena had ever carried.
She descended the marble steps of the terrace slowly, her gaze locked on the ground as if counting each step might dull the pain.
Twenty steps to the gate.
Twenty steps away from three years of love, routine, and belonging.
The Tagaytay sunset bathed the mansion in soft gold. Lena remembered how much she adored this hour—when sunlight filtered through Aria’s curtains, and they would lie on the bed inventing shapes from the shadows dancing above them.
A rabbit.
A cloud.
A star.
She didn’t turn around.
If she did, she knew she’d collapse—and she’d already cried enough in the staff bathroom while packing her things.