LOGINPOV: Evelyn
The house was quiet when I stepped inside, I stood by the door with my hand still resting on the handle, letting my eyes move slowly across the familiar space.
Nothing had changed.
Everything was exactly where it had always been, from the polished floors to the carefully arranged furniture, but it didn’t feel the same anymore, and as I walked further into the foyer, I realized that the difference wasn’t the house.
It was me.
My heels made a soft sound against the floor as I moved toward the staircase, my steps steady and unhurried, because there was no reason to rush anymore, no reason to move quickly for a place that no longer belonged to me.
I didn’t call for the staff, and I didn’t look for anyone either, because I didn’t want an audience for what I was about to do.
I just wanted to leave.
When I pushed open the door to the bedroom, the air inside felt still, untouched, as if nothing had happened here at all, and for a brief moment, I simply stood there, looking at the bed, the dresser, the windows that I had spent so many nights staring out of while waiting for Arthur to come home.
That version of me felt distant now.
I walked over to the wardrobe and pulled it open, my hands moving automatically as I reached for my clothes, taking down only what I knew I would need and placing them neatly into the suitcase I had set on the bed.
I didn’t hesitate, and I didn’t linger over any of the jewellery pieces, even the ones I had once liked, because none of them held any meaning anymore. As I moved through the room, I ignored the jewelry box on the dresser and the expensive gifts that had been given to me over the years, because they were never really mine to begin with, and taking them now would feel like holding onto something that had already been taken away from me.
Instead, I focused on the important stuff instead. My documents, identification and the envelope from the clinic.
I paused for a second when I picked it up, my fingers tightening slightly around the paper before I placed it carefully into my bag, making sure it was secure before continuing.
Once the wardrobe was half empty, I moved to the drawer at the bottom and pulled it open, and that was when I saw them again.
My sketches.
They were stacked neatly where I had left them months ago, untouched and forgotten, the edges slightly worn from being handled too often in the past, and as I picked them up, I felt something shift quietly inside me.
There had been a time when these meant everything to me. When I thought this was what my life would be, but somewhere along the way, I had stopped drawing, stopped thinking about it, stopped being that person entirely without even realizing when it happened.
I ran my fingers lightly over the pages before placing them into my suitcase, not because I was sure of what I would do with them, but because leaving them behind didn’t feel right.
As I closed the drawer, the sound of footsteps outside the room made me pause, and before I could react, the door swung open without warning.
Rebecca stepped inside, her eyes moving quickly from me to the suitcase on the bed, and then back to my face, her lips curling into a familiar, mocking smile.
“So it’s finally happening,” she said, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe, her voice filled with satisfaction. “I was starting to think you would drag this out longer just to be difficult.”
I didn’t respond immediately, and instead I turned back to the bed and continued packing, folding another piece of clothing and placing it neatly into the suitcase as if she wasn’t standing there at all.
“You really have no shame, do you,” she continued, pushing herself off the doorframe and walking further into the room, her heels clicking against the floor as she circled slightly closer. “Three billion dollars and a penthouse, and you still look like this is some kind of tragedy.”
I zipped one side of the suitcase before finally looking up at her, my expression calm and steady as I met her gaze.
“It’s not a tragedy,” I said quietly.
She let out a short laugh, shaking her head as if she found that amusing. “Of course it’s over, it was over the moment Samantha came back, you just didn’t want to admit it because you were too comfortable living off our family.”
I didn’t react to that either, because arguing with her had never changed anything, and it wasn’t going to start now.
“I’ll be gone tonight,” I added simply, turning back to my suitcase.
Rebecca stopped moving for a second, clearly not expecting that answer, and when she spoke again, her tone was sharper. “Tonight? That’s faster than I expected. I guess even you know when you’re no longer welcome.”
I closed the suitcase halfway and adjusted the contents before responding, my voice still even. “I’ve known that for a long time.”
The room fell quiet after that, and for a moment, neither of us spoke as she watched me finish packing, her expression unreadable now, but I didn’t look at her again.
There was nothing left to say.
When I finally closed the suitcase completely, I placed it on the floor beside the bed before straightening up.
Rebecca scoffed softly, turning toward the door as if she had already lost interest. “Just make sure you don’t leave anything behind, I don’t want to have to deal with your leftovers after you’re gone.”
I didn’t answer her. I simply walked past her toward the door, my hand brushing lightly against the frame as I stepped out into the hallway, and this time, I didn’t stop or look back.
There was nothing in that room worth staying for. As I moved down the hallway, my phone vibrated in my hand again, and I paused briefly to look at the screen, already knowing who it was before I even read the message.
“Don’t delay. They’re already moving.”
My fingers tightened slightly around the phone, and for a moment, I stood there in silence, letting the words settle in my mind as the quiet of the house pressed in around me. Then I slipped the phone back into my
Good riddance to fucking bad rubbish.
POV: EvelynThe strange thing about happiness was that it never arrived the way I imagined it would.When I was younger, I thought it would be loud.Some dramatic moment where everything suddenly became perfect.Instead it arrived quietly.On a Thursday.While I stood barefoot in the kitchen making pancakes because Toby had declared cereal "an insult to recovery.""You burned one."I looked over my shoulder."I did not."Leone walked over, stole the pancake straight from the pan and took a bite.He chewed thoughtfully."It's... enthusiastically cooked.""You mean burned.""I was trying to protect your feelings.""My feelings were doing fine until you showed up.""They're still doing fine."He kissed my forehead before taking another bite of the ruined pancake."I'll eat this one.""You don't have to.""I know."He smiled."I want to."That was Leone.He had a way of making tiny things feel important.Toby wandered into the kitchen still wearing yesterday's oversized shirt."Morning."
POV: EvelynI thought I was prepared.After everything we'd survived, I honestly believed there wasn't much left that could make me nervous.I'd faced courtrooms.Lawyers.Reporters.DNA tests.Hospitals at three in the morning.Phone calls that changed entire lives.One little follow-up appointment shouldn't have been enough to make my stomach twist itself into knots.Apparently my body disagreed."You've checked the appointment time six times."Leone's voice carried across the kitchen as he poured coffee into a travel mug."I've checked it twice."He looked at me over the rim of his cup."Evelyn.""Fine. Maybe six."He smiled without saying I told you so. One of the things I loved most about him was that he rarely needed to win little arguments. He just let me arrive at the truth on my own.Toby wandered into the kitchen a second later, backpack slung over one shoulder even though we weren't going anywhere near school."Why does everybody look like they're about to write an exam?"I
POV: RebeccaThe porch light had dimmed to a soft amber glow by the time we finally stood up. Nina’s hand stayed laced with mine as we stepped inside, the screen door clicking shut behind us like a quiet promise. The house was silent except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the distant murmur of neighborhood life. No emergencies. No ringing phones. Just us.I followed her down the hallway, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. In our bedroom, Nina turned on the small lamp on the dresser. Warm light spilled across the bed, catching on the soft linen sheets we’d bought together last month. She looked at me over her shoulder, that knowing little smile playing at the corners of her mouth.“Come here,” she said softly.I crossed the room without hesitation. When I reached her, she cupped my face with both hands and kissed me again—deeper this time, slower, like she had all the time in the world. Her lips were warm, tasting faintly of the iced tea we’d shared on the porch. I melted in
POV: RebeccaThe strange thing about surviving a disaster was realizing you suddenly had free time.For months every morning had started with another crisis.Another phone call.Another emergency meeting.Another witness.Another document.Another reason to believe the world was about to collapse all over again.Now...My biggest problem was deciding what to do on a Saturday.It felt suspicious.Nina looked up from the kitchen counter where she was making coffee."You've been staring at that calendar for five minutes."I looked down.I had."I think something's wrong."She frowned immediately."What?""We don't have anything scheduled."She blinked."That's the problem?""I feel like I'm forgetting something."Nina walked over, took the calendar from my hands and looked at it herself."No meetings.""No investigations.""No interviews.""No lawyers."She smiled before handing it back."Rebecca.""What?""I think that's called having a life."I stared at her."I remember hearing about
POV: ArthurThe last thing I sold was the watch.Not because it was the most expensive thing I owned.Because it was the last thing that still belonged to the man I'd spent twenty-five years pretending to be.The jeweler turned it over carefully beneath the bright lights, checked the serial number, inspected the movement, then looked back at me."I can transfer the payment today."I nodded."That's fine."He quoted the number.Six months ago I would've considered it insignificant.Now it would pay my legal bills for another few weeks.Funny how quickly money changed value when it stopped arriving faster than you could spend it.I signed the paperwork, accepted the receipt and walked back onto the street with a wrist that suddenly felt lighter.Not empty.Just...Different.My phone buzzed.Toby: Fishing Saturday?I smiled before answering.Absolutely.The reply came almost instantly.Don't let Leone cheat again.I laughed out loud.People walking past looked at me strangely.I didn't
POV: ArthurThe first person to call me after Samantha's evidence became public wasn't a friend.It wasn't family.It wasn't even someone checking whether I was alright.It was Richard Collins.Board member.Twenty-three years.The same man who had voted to remove me from my own company.I stared at his name lighting up my phone before answering."What?"No greeting.He didn't deserve one."Arthur."His voice sounded different.Smaller."I think we should talk."I leaned back in the chair on my porch and looked out toward the lake behind the house I'd rented after losing everything. The fishing rod Toby had insisted I buy leaned against the railing beside me.Three months ago Richard wouldn't have called.Three months ago he would've asked an assistant.Funny how quickly power changed people."I don't.""Arthur, listen—""No.""You don't even know why I'm calling.""I know exactly why."Silence.Then a sigh."The board is falling apart."I almost laughed."That sounds familiar.""Peop
POV: NinaRebecca’s finger slides under my chin, turning my face toward hers. I’ve seen that look before.“I want to help my princess feel better,” she murmurs, her voice low and velvet-smooth, wrapping around the words like a promise.Something inside me cracks open at the endearment. “Princess.”
POV: MalachiI don’t like when things move without warning. Money is moving through accounts that didn’t exist two weeks ago with clean entries and records. That means Samantha didn’t build this network herself. No one builds something this smooth overnight unless they’ve done it before or they had
POV: EvelynI had spent hours at Malachi’s and by the time I get home, I don’t switch on the main lights when I step inside, just the small ones and I drop my bag by the table and stand there for a moment. The project is still open on my laptop from earlier, sitting there like I had instructed so
POV: MalachiI know something is wrong before they even reach the car. Toby is talking but it’s not the same kind of talking as before. It’s slower, uncertain, like he’s trying to figure out if he’s allowed to ask questions or not. And Evelyn… she’s not saying anything.That’s the problem.She’s to







