Clothes from the life I had before I forgot who I was.
As I zipped the suitcase shut, the tightness in my chest lifted for the first time in years.
My phone rang.
It was Robert, the Sterling family lawyer.
He had always looked at me as if I were a clerical error.
“Ms. Vance,” he said, already using my maiden name. “Mr. Sterling wants confirmation that you signed the papers.”
“It is done,” I said.
A pause.
“Very good.”
“Tell him he got exactly what he paid for.”
Then I hung up.
I walked down the grand staircase for the last time.
The house was silent.
No one came to the door.
No one said goodbye.
No one watched me leave.
Perfect.
I stepped outside into the cold night air, pulling my suitcase behind me.
The moment the front door closed, I breathed.
Really breathed.
For the first time in three years, the air belonged to me.
I did not go to my parents.
I could not bear to see the pain on their faces.
They had warned me.
My father had told me the Sterlings would never accept a girl from Queens.
My mother had asked me whether Julian was strong enough to stand between me and his family.