The reply came instantly. Consider it done. See you soon, love.
Love. The word made me flinch, but I didn’t care anymore. I needed freedom. I needed Gwen safe. Whatever it took.
I dropped the phone and pulled out a suitcase. My hands moved quickly, shoving clothes into it, tossing shoes, jewelry, anything I could carry. Every zip of the bag was a nail on the coffin of the life I was leaving behind.
Then came the voice I least wanted to hear.
“I’m so sorry about the baby,” Nadine’s syrupy tone filled the doorway.
I froze, my jaw tightening.
“But you see,” she continued, stepping in uninvited, “he doesn’t trust you anymore. Not after what your father did. Honestly, Emerald, you should’ve told him about your father’s scam. Hiding things never ends well.”
I kept my back to her, folding another dress, forcing myself not to explode. She wanted a fight. I wouldn’t give her one.
Inside, though, my chest burned. My father? His sins had never been mine. I never cared about his mistakes. Why was I still being punished for them? Why did Nadine think she could dangle his shame in my face like this?
She came closer, her hands reaching for my clothes. “So you’re leaving?” She gave a laugh, pretending to sound kind. “That’s better. You really don’t have a place here anymore. Come, let me help you pack.”
“I don’t need your help,” I snapped, turning sharply. “I can handle this. Go away, Nadine. I know you’re faking every word.”
But she didn’t leave. She forced her way further into the room, touching things that weren’t hers. And then it happened—her arm brushed against the side table.
The vase toppled.
It crashed to the floor, shattering into jagged pieces. My eyes widened, my breath caught.
Not the vase. It was Gwen’s. The one she made in school, the one she’d painted with her tiny hands and won first prize for. My Gwen’s masterpiece. Gone.
Red flared in my vision. I shoved Nadine back, my voice breaking. “What the hell is wrong with you? I told you not to help me!”
She staggered back and immediately screamed, louder than necessary. “Leandro!”
Footsteps thundered down the hall. Leandro burst in, his eyes narrowing at the scene. “What’s happening?”
“I was just trying to help her pack,” Nadine said quickly, her voice trembling like a victim. “I didn’t mean to. The vase fell—and she pushed me.”
My chest heaved. “She knocked it over! I told her not to touch my things—”