I straightened slowly, my voice turning sharp. “Go tell your sister something for me,” I said, stepping forward. “If she thinks she can just walk in and take everything, she’s going to regret it. I’m not letting go of Damien. If we’re all going to live in lies, then fine—we’ll all suffer together.”
I didn’t wait for her reaction.
I walked past her, heels striking hard against the marble floor, each step loud with defiance—even though my chest felt like it was breaking in silence.
That night, I packed my bags.
I needed air. Space. Anything far from the city, from the chaos, from all of them.
I went back to the province—to the small house where my grandmother lived. The woman who raised me when my own parents chose my sister over me.
When I arrived, she was by the window, knitting quietly, her hands thin and fragile. The moment she saw me, her face softened instantly.
“Clara,” she said gently. “You look exhausted. Did something happen?”
I forced a smile and shook my head. “Nothing, Mom,” I whispered, kneeling beside her. “I just wanted to come home for a while.”
She patted my head softly. “Then stay. Rest here.”
For a few days, I tried.
I cooked. I walked outside. I pretended the quiet could heal me. But it didn’t. The silence only made everything louder—Damien’s voice, Camille’s smirk, Regina’s threats echoing in my mind without end.
And when I finally decided to return to the city, I checked my phone.
Dozens of missed calls.
All from Damien.
My stomach twisted.
At the airport, I barely made it a few steps before cameras and microphones surrounded me. Reporters shouted my name from every direction, flashes exploding in my face.
“Mrs. Caldwell, is it true Ethan is your husband’s illegitimate son?”
“Did you know before marrying him?”
The questions blurred into noise, pressing in from all sides. My bag slipped from my hand. My heartbeat roared in my ears.
Everything spun.
And then—
Nothing.
The door slammed shut behind us with a heavy, shaking bang that echoed through the entire room.
Damien stood there frozen for a second, then turned to me with a face drained of color but burning with rage. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might break.
“Was that you?” he snapped, voice rising. “Did you leak Ethan’s identity to the press?”
My stomach dropped. “What are you even saying?”