Dust swirled along the dirt path, as if the entire town wanted to warn Elena that something bad was about to unfold.
It was close to three in the afternoon, and the sun over Silver Creek Valley blazed down mercilessly, bleaching the hills in harsh white light. Elena walked slowly, a heavy bundle of wood tied across her back, one hand cradling her eight-month belly.
With the other, she held her worn shawl in place over her head. Each step sent a sharp ache through her spine, but she didn’t stop. There was no gas at home, and the baby she carried—or babies, since the local doctor suspected twins—wouldn’t wait for her to rest.
Then a truck appeared.
Black, polished, and out of place on that dusty road. It came to a sudden stop in front of her, sending a cloud of dirt into the air that stung her eyes and filled her mouth. The tinted window slid down, releasing a blast of cold air scented with leather, expensive cologne, and a life she had once believed would be hers.
Behind the wheel sat Victor.
Her ex-husband.
He wore a pale suit, a luxury watch gleaming on his wrist, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. Everything about him spoke of wealth—but Elena knew too well what lay beneath it.
“Move,” he snapped. “You’re going to get dust all over my truck.”
In the passenger seat, a blonde woman with flawless makeup and glossy red nails looked at Elena with open disdain. She wore a cream dress, oversized sunglasses, and a diamond bracelet that caught the light.
“So that’s the ex?” she asked lightly. “You weren’t exaggerating, Vic. She looks even worse.”
Elena said nothing. She straightened as much as she could under the weight, her dark eyes meeting Victor’s with a calm that instantly irritated him.
He hated that look.
He remembered it from the last night they had been together—when he told her things were “about to change” and pushed her to sign documents “for a business deal.” She had refused. Two weeks later, he vanished with money from the account her father had left her and with documents he had no right to take. Since then, people believed he had won. He bought land, made deals with investors, promised development and luxury. Meanwhile, Elena survived alone in a small, worn house.
What no one knew was that her father had been far more careful than anyone realized.
“Are you moving or not?” Victor snapped, slamming his hand on the wheel.
Elena inhaled slowly.
“The road isn’t yours.”