Chapter 2

I went to Havenbrook.

There were no familiar faces and no shared memories. Even the weather felt different.

I brought 100 thousand dollars in savings and my interior design certification.

I spent four years studying interior design. After graduation, I followed David to Northgate for his job. With his high salary, I didn't have to push myself. I took an assistant job at a small studio, nothing too exciting.

Now, there was no one telling me to take it easy.

Maybe that was a good thing.

In my first month in Havenbrook, I interviewed with six companies.

Two said I didn't have enough experience, one turned me down because I didn't go to a top university, and two thought I was underpricing myself and doubted my skills.

The sixth was a startup studio with four people.

The boss was Grace King, a woman three years older than me, with short hair, who spoke fast and straight to the point. "Have you ever completed a full project on your own?"

"No," I replied.

"Then what makes you think you can do it?" she pressed.

I plugged in my USB drive and pulled up more than twenty design projects I'd quietly worked on over the past three years. All of them were personal experiments, never shown to anyone.

Grace scanned through them for ten minutes. "If you'd sent these out back then, you could've at least made the initial cut at a leading studio."

"I know," I replied.

"So what were you doing these past years?"

"Playing the good wife."

Grace shot me a look. "Report to work tomorrow. You will earn 2,600 each month, serving a three‑month probation period. Keep the job if you can hack it, or leave if you cannot."

"Deal."

I started my new life in that cramped 160-square-foot cubicle.

During the day, I was out on site, taking measurements, coordinating with the foreman, and handling client complaints.

At night, I'd head back to my 300-dollar-a-month partitioned apartment and work on my designs, often staying up until two or three in the morning.

In the second month of my trial period, I took on an interior decor project for a private villa.

The client ran a coffee business. Money was never a problem, but his taste was ridiculously picky. He'd already fired two designers before me.

I spent a week at his place, observing what coffee he drank, what books he read, where he spent the most time, and when the sunlight hit each spot.

I came up with three designs, but he rejected the first two.

For the third version, I changed my approach, with no more trying to impress with fancy design. I made it feel like this was already his home, like he'd always wanted to live here.

He sat there in silence for ages after looking it over, then finally said, "You're the one."

After the project wrapped up, the client sent three more friends my way.

Grace took me out for dinner and said, "Susan, you're the kind of person whose talent got wasted."

I ate and stayed quiet.

When my trial period ended, she gave me a raise to 5 thousand dollars a month, plus bonuses for each project.

I started building up my own client list.

Six months later, I secured the full design contract for a boutique guesthouse in Havenbrook.

Later, a travel blogger shot a short video there that pulled in over three million views. The comment section exploded with people asking who had designed the place.

For the first time, people knew my name, Susan Reed, not Mrs. Lane or David's wife.