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Leon Stone pushed the divorce agreement in front of me. The air conditioner in the family court was blowing too hard. The cold air crept through my collar. My fingertips went numb, yet the hand holding the pen remained remarkably steady. The time screen on the wall flickered, like a countdown for this marriage. "Sign it, Nina," Leon said. "I'll have accounting send the money you want to you. The house and the car are mine. As for the rest, you can't take it anyway." I looked up at him. After three years of marriage, he was still immaculate, almost flawlessly so. In a dark gray suit, tie perfectly straight, he showed no excess emotion in his eyes. He was like a block of ice, too cold to bother melting. His mother, Margaret Stone, sat to the side, muttering under her breath, "The marriage used to be a luck for you two, so leaving should also be done with dignity. Nina, don't tarnish the Stone family name. Leave the house keys behind. And take that cat with you. It has too much fur. That's filthy." I didn't speak. I stared at the signature line on the last page of the agreement. As the pen's ink touched the paper, I heard the string inside me that had been stretched taut for three years finally snap.