Chapter 5

If I said that, she'd go crying to Victoria.

And then everyone would tell me all over again, "She's staying here for a while. She never felt safe growing up. You're our daughter, so why can't you let her stay in your room?"

I pulled open the drawer, took out the spare key, and handed it to her. "Sure."

Stella didn't take it. Her gaze was glued to the key, unmoving. "You're really letting me?"

"Isn't this exactly what you wanted?" I replied.

Stella parted her lips, but couldn't find the words.

Just then, Victoria and Andrew appeared at the doorway, probably worried we might get into it.

Victoria caught sight of the key in my hand and hesitated for a moment. "Vivian, Stella was talking. She didn't really mean it. You don't have to go along with it."

I placed the key in Stella's hand. "If she wants it, it's hers."

Andrew's frown deepened. "What's with the drama now?"

"I'm not making a fuss," I said, turning to open the closet and started taking out my clothes.

Victoria watched me, her voice a little tense. "Where are you moving to?"

"The guest room," I replied.

"This is your room. You don't have to move out," Victoria said.

I paused. "But that's what she wants."

Victoria was at a loss for words.

Stella held the key, but there wasn't a flicker of happiness about getting the room.

She watched me pull my clothes out one by one, and finally couldn't help saying, "Vivian, I'm staying here for a bit. You don't need to clear everything out. It's really okay."

"I don't like messing with other people's stuff," I replied.

Her face went pale.

I didn't spare her another glance.

I barely had any clothes left.

After I was gone for a year, most of what was really mine had been gone for a long time.

I filled up half a suitcase and grabbed a few work notebooks from the desk.

Finally, I removed the name plaque from the door.

The metal scraped against the wooden door, making a faint scraping sound.

Andrew's face darkened. "Vivian, why are you taking that down?"

I put the name plaque into the toolbox and closed the lid. "This room isn't mine anymore. No reason for my name to stay here now."

Victoria's eyes grew misty. "Vivian, no one ever said you don't belong here."

I looked at her. "Then where am I supposed to live?"

She was at a loss for words.

The guest room? A hotel? Or should I go back overseas?

No one answered.

I picked up my suitcase and walked to the door.

Stella instinctively stepped aside.

As I passed her, she suddenly grabbed my sleeve. "Vivian, do you hate me?"

I glanced down at her hand. "No."

Hate took energy.

This past year, I had been busy staying alive, busy teaching myself not to wait for the phone to ring, busy fixing all the broken pieces, one by one. Honestly, I didn't have any energy left for hate.

"Then why are you like this?" Stella asked.

"Like what?" I replied.

Stella finally started to cry. "You never want anything."

I looked at her and almost wanted to laugh.

When I used to want something, everyone said I was greedy.

Now that I didn't want anything, she was the scared one.

I gently pulled my sleeve away. "Relax. If I said I'd give it to you, I won't take it back."

I headed downstairs.

As I reached the landing, my phone rang.

It was Ella Sutherland.

I answered.

"How's it going?" Ella asked.

I looked up at the second floor.

Victoria was standing at my door, her face pale.

Andrew was completely still, staring at me.

Stella was clutching the key, as if it were scorching her palm.

I looked away. "It's going smoother than I thought."

"When are you leaving?" Ella asked.

I glanced at the family portrait hanging on the living room wall.

On the far edge of the photo, my twenty-year-old self was still staring straight at the camera, stubborn as ever.

"No rush," I said. "For now, all they cared about was the engagement and the room."

I dragged my suitcase down the stairs.

The wheels clattered against each step, echoing harshly through the house.

"I want to see what else they're after," I added.