Chapter 4

"Where are you going?" Hank shouted behind me. "Changed your mind? Gonna clean up my dad's room now?"

I didn't look back.

I walked into the bedroom and closed the door, shutting out the noise outside.

Then I pulled a suitcase down from the top of the closet.

I opened it and started gathering my stuff.

I'd lived here for five years, but there was almost nothing that was really mine—just the clothes I wore most days, a few textbooks, my laptop, and my documents.

The rest—the furniture, the décor, every last pot and pan—all bore the Miller family's mark. I wouldn't take a single piece.

From the living room, Mandy's curses and Hank's furious shouts kept coming in waves. "She's gone too far. Completely out of control.

"Kick her out with nothing. She doesn't get a dime.

"Jenny, get your ass out here."

I zipped up the suitcase, taking my time.

Then I walked over to the nightstand and pulled open the bottom drawer.

From beneath a stack of old papers, I pulled out a manila envelope.

It was thick, the paper brittle and yellowed with age.

I opened the envelope and poured out its contents.

There was a thick stack of bank transfer slips, a pile of neatly lined-up pay stubs, and a small black recorder that fit right in my palm.

I gripped the recorder in my hand. The chill of it snapped me wide awake.

Did Hank and Mandy think I was only some doormat they could push around?

I would settle every score from these five years. One by one. Slowly and thoroughly.

I dragged my suitcase out of the bedroom. The clamor in the living room died instantly.

Both Hank and Mandy stared at me in utter disbelief. As if I were dragging not a suitcase, but some kind of monster.

"W-What are you doing?" Hank stammered.

"You're really leaving?" Mandy's face fell.

She probably thought I was only bluffing, trying to scare them. She never thought I'd actually mean it.

"What else do you expect?" I shot back. "Stay here, keep working myself to the bone for you, then wait to be thrown out?"

My gaze was cold as ice. "I said, I'm here to tell you, not to ask."

Hank's face went from pale to flushed. He looked like he wanted to block my way, but his pride stopped him.

"Go. Get out right now," Hank shouted, furious. "Walk out that door, and don't ever come back.

"Let me make this clear. If you walk out that door today, you'll never see a single cent from the Miller family again."

I laughed. "I don't want a single cent from the Miller family.

"But every penny that's mine—I'm taking it all with me."

With that, I didn't spare them another glance.

I pulled my suitcase to the entryway, changed my shoes, opened the door, and walked out without looking back.

I shut the door, leaving all their nasty attitudes locked away behind me.

Stepping out of the apartment complex, the night breeze washed over my face.

I took a deep breath. For the first time, I tasted freedom.

I didn't go to a hotel. Instead, I took a cab straight to my best friend Vivian Lynn's place.

Vivian was a lawyer, and we'd been roommates all four years in college.

When she opened the door, she was in silk pajamas with a face mask on.

Seeing me with a suitcase, she didn't look surprised at all.

She quietly pulled me inside and took my suitcase.

Then she grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and handed it to me. "Alright, spill it. What kind of drama did that jerk pull this time?"

I popped the tab and took a big gulp.

The icy beer slid down my throat, putting out the fire burning inside me.

I told Vivian everything that happened today, leaving nothing out—from Hank faking my leave paperwork to him and Mandy screaming at me to get out with nothing.

Vivian listened without a word. The mask on her face was powerless against the frost spreading through her eyes.

When I finished, she peeled off her mask and chucked it in the trash. "What a scumbag."

She cut straight to the point. "Hank really thinks moving all the assets and having the house from before the marriage means you can't touch him? He's way too naive."

Vivian fixed me with a sharp look. "Jenny, do you still have your salary bank statements from the last five years?"

I nodded, pulling the manila envelope out of my bag. "Everything's right here.

"Plus, I've kept records of every transfer I made to the nanny, receipts for all the big appliances I bought for the house, and even the cash gifts I sent to his parents for holidays. I kept proof of it all."

I pulled out the voice recorder. "In here are two years' worth of recordings—of how Hank and his mother spoke to me.

"Most of it may seem like mundane daily trivialities, but taken together, it's enough to prove what kind of life I've actually been living in this marriage."

Vivian took those items, her eyes growing brighter and brighter.

She looked like a general on the verge of battle who had laid eyes on her finest weapons.

She patted my shoulder, steady and confident. "Don't worry. You won't be the one leaving empty-handed.

"I'll make Hank and his mother disgorge every penny they took—exactly the way they swallowed it up. With interest."