Helena looked at him quietly. Her voice was steady, but her words cut deep.
"Do you remember what day it is today?"
His brows furrowed deeper, impatience flashing openly in his gaze.
"Today is Laica's award ceremony."
"Stay home and behave. I'll come back later."
He left without another glance.
Helena stood still, staring at the empty doorway.
A faint, self-mocking smile touched her lips.
He remembers Laica's big day... but forgot this one.
Five years ago, on this very date, he lit fireworks across the entire city—held her in his arms beneath the dazzling night sky—and whispered solemnly, "Helena, I'll never forget this day. The day you said yes to me."
The villa door slammed shut behind him.
The world fell silent.
Helena stood in the vast, empty living room, then slowly opened the stack of research papers he'd just signed.
At the very last page, hidden beneath the research notes, was a document titled: [Cabrera Group—30% Equity Transfer Agreement (No Compensation)]
And under the recipient, the name signed in bold ink—was hers.
Pulling out her phone, she dialed Henry.
"Brother, it's done," she said, her voice steady. "You can start the full withdrawal."
"Good," Henry's deep voice replied. After a pause, he added, "And the flight ticket you asked me to book for Jennelyn—I've sent the details to your phone."
"Got it."
When the call ended, Helena gathered the signed equity agreement and her research documents, locking them carefully into her suitcase.
Then she took one last look around the house—the gilded cage that had imprisoned her love, her youth, and her dreams.
Without a single trace of hesitation, Helena wheeled her suitcase to the door—and walked out of the villa, leaving it all behind.
Boston Logan International Airport was ablaze with light.
All the immigration paperwork had been handled by her brother long ago.
As soon as Helena arrived, she spotted two familiar figures waiting by the terminal—Jennelyn and her former senior, Emmett.
"Helena!" Jennelyn's voice trembled with emotion. "I never thought I'd see you again."
Helena smiled softly, reaching out to pat her head.
"Don't worry," she said gently, but her eyes were filled with coldness. "I'll make sure every single person who hurt us pays for what they did."
Jennelyn's eyes reddened. She was an orphan—framed, disgraced, and imprisoned just like Helena. The years had been cruel to both of them.