There was no warmth in his eyes.
No glimmer of the father I once knew.
Just cold, merciless disdain.
His words cast me adrift, and I felt the terrifying pull of an uncertain future, of a life ripped apart.
“Father, please,” I begged, reaching for him one last time, grasping for a scrap of the man who’d once loved me.
“I did this for us.
“What you were doing—it was despicable.”
But my plea bounced off the walls, unheard, unwanted.
His fury boiled over, a storm unchecked.
“Shut up!Get out!Pack your bags!You’re no longer welcome in this house.”
His eyes blazed into mine.
“I will tell the authorities if you don’t leave within the hour.One word from me, Elizabeth, and they’ll come for you.
“With orders to eliminate you on sight.
“And I’ll enjoy every second of it.Watching you meet your end.”
He jabbed a twisted finger toward the hallway, his lips curled in hatred.
The servant turned the chair abruptly, wheels shrieking against the floor.
And then they were gone—swallowed by the corridor, leaving only silence.
A silence filled with ruin.
And I—alone.Pregnant.Homeless.Hunted.
The chamber around me seemed to tighten, its walls pressing in, heavy with betrayal and abandonment.
But there was no time for grief.
There was no room for shock.
My limbs ached with weakness, but urgency seared through me, pushing my body into motion.
“Mary,” I gasped, my voice raw, but insistent.
“We must pack.Quickly.”
Her eyes met mine—a flicker of fear, then resolve.She nodded.
We moved in tandem, our hands trembling, every movement swift, frantic, necessary.
A few changes of clothing—wrinkled, hastily folded.
Hidden beneath the loose floorboard, a small pouch of coins was now our only wealth.
The locket—my mother’s portrait inside—pressed to my chest before being tucked away.
