Chapter 3

I pulled my hand back and didn't bother picking up the pieces.

"Edward, ten o'clock tomorrow at the courthouse. If you don't show up, I'll take you to court," I said.

He let out a mocking laugh.

"Do you even know how to file a lawsuit?" Edward sneered.

Clara said softly, "Margaret, don't make a scene. Edward's a consultant at the painting and calligraphy academy now—his reputation matters."

I picked up my old canvas bag from the bedroom and carefully packed my documents, a few changes of clothes, and my mother's photo album inside.

Daniel stood in the doorway, his voice cold and hard.

"Mom, if you walk out today, don't ever expect me to call you Mom again," Daniel said.

I paused.

I turned to look at him.

"Then don't call me Mom anymore," I said.

He looked like I'd just slapped him, his face turning bright red.

I opened the door, and Edward called out from behind me.

"Margaret, walking out is easy. But coming back? That's not so simple," Edward said.

I didn't look back.

I spent the night at Helen's shop.

There was a fold-out bed in the back of her little noodle shop, but the legs were so wobbly that every time I turned over, it creaked like crazy.

At five in the morning, Helen got up to knead dough. When she saw me sitting on a stool, sorting through my documents, she got so mad she slapped the bag of flour down on the counter.

"Is that all you're taking? The house, the savings, all those years you spent copying his manuscripts and organizing his art books—none of that is worth anything to you?" Helen snapped.

"I'll get what's mine," I said.

"How? He'll just shut you up with a few words and make you feel like nothing," Helen scoffed.

I tucked an old photo into my notebook.

It was me at eighteen, standing in front of a crumbling mural, my hands covered in paint. Next to me was an old man with gray hair, smiling kindly.

Helen leaned in.

"Who's that?" she asked.

I closed the notebook.

"Someone who taught me back then," I replied.

Helen narrowed her eyes.

"Seriously, what did you even study back then? I've known you forever, and all I ever see is you cooking, sewing, and sorting Edward's pile of junk papers like some pro librarian," Helen said.

Someone knocked on the door.

Helen grabbed her rolling pin and went to answer it.

Two men stood at the door—one tall, one short. The shorter one showed me his credentials.

"Ms. Lane, could we have a moment of your time?" he said.

Helen's guard went up instantly.

"You again? Where exactly are you planning to take her now?" Helen demanded.

The shorter man replied, "It's a classified unit. I can't say more."

"You can't even tell me where you're taking her, and you just expect me to let you walk off with her? What do you take me for?" Helen shot back.

I put my hand on Helen's.

"Helen, this is my choice," I said.

The taller man glanced around at the cluttered tables and chairs in the noodle shop, then spoke carefully.

"Ms. Lane, last night Mr. Walker was asking everywhere about your whereabouts, even contacting your former neighbors. We recommend you cut ties with your family as soon as possible," he said.

Helen caught on right away.

"Cut ties? Margaret, are you really going to be gone for a long time?" Helen asked.

I didn't answer.

My phone rang.

It was an unknown number.

I answered, and Clara's voice came through.

"Margaret, please don't misunderstand me, I'm not trying to imply anything. Edward didn't sleep at all last night—he's genuinely worried about you," Clara said.

Helen rolled her eyes.

"Just get to the point," I said.

Clara let out a soft sigh.

"Daniel skipped breakfast this morning. He said he won't go to school unless you come home and apologize. He's at that age—you really can't upset him too much. Please, just come back for a bit. Don't let him grow to hate you," Clara pleaded.

"What does it matter to you if he hates me?" I shot back.

She paused for a moment.

"Margaret, don't say it like that. I just care about the kid," Clara said.

Helen snatched the phone from me.

"If you care about him so much, why don't you just take him home and raise him yourself? Stop acting like you own her kitchen, parading around in her apron, and playing the loving mom when you're not," Helen shot back.

Clara's voice dropped.

"Oh, Helen, is it because you're divorced that you can't stand to see anyone else with a happy family?" Clara retorted.

Helen scoffed, her anger bubbling over.

"You call stealing someone else's man a happy family? You must be shameless," Helen snapped.

The call was cut off.

Helen shoved the phone back into my hand.

"She deserves to be dragged in public," Helen said.

The short man looked at me.

"Ms. Lane, are you still going to the courthouse at ten?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

I changed my clothes and headed out.

At the courthouse entrance, Edward showed up.

Clara was there too.

Daniel stood between them, backpack slung over his shoulder, looking like he was ready to pass judgment on me.

Edward handed me a divorce agreement.

"Sign this," he said.

I glanced over it.

The house? His. The savings? His. Daniel? Also his. I was expected to walk out with absolutely nothing—and on top of that, I had to swear I'd never do anything to ruin his reputation.

I closed the agreement.

"You made a mistake," I said.

"Margaret, don't be greedy," Edward said.

He stared at me, his eyes cold.

"You haven't worked in years. All the money in this house came from me. Letting you leave with nothing is already me being generous," he said.

I gave a short laugh.

"Oh, you think you earned it?" I shot back.

Clara cut in immediately.

"Margaret, it's not easy for Edward to keep everything afloat on his own. Just because you're mad at him doesn't mean you can pretend all his hard work meant nothing," she said.

I turned to Edward.

"Who was the one staying up all night, organizing those old painting drafts for your award back then?" I asked.

Edward's brows furrowed.

"There you go again. All you did was transcribe some notes for me. Don't make it sound like you were some big deal," he said.

Daniel chimed in, "Mom, stop trying to take credit for these little things. Dad's the real expert here."

I pushed the agreement back to him.

"Then let the expert fight his own lawsuit," I said.

Edward's face darkened.

"Are you really going to make this ugly?" he asked.

"You already tore things apart," I shot back.

A few people in the hall turned to look at us.

Clara suddenly pulled out her phone and started playing a video.

The video showed the living room from yesterday—it caught the moment I was untying my apron, Clara backed away, and a bowl crashed to the floor.

She sounded all hurt.

"Margaret, I really didn't want to show this. But if you keep pushing Edward, I'll have to show everyone just how unstable you've become," she said.

Daniel straightened up, looking all self-righteous.

"Mom, see? And you still say you didn't push her?" he said.

I stared at the video.

The angle was perfect—it totally skipped the part where she ran into the table herself.

Helen burst in.

"Clara, you dare to edit the video?" Helen snapped.

Clara moved closer to Edward.

"Helen, don't go around slandering me," she shot back.

Edward noticed the crowd was getting bigger, so he lowered his voice.

"Margaret, just sign it. If you do, I won't hold you responsible for what happened today," he said.

Before I could say anything, a security guard walked over.

"Please don't argue in the hall," the guard said.

Edward immediately straightened up, trying to look all proper again.

"Sorry, just a family matter," he said.

I pulled out an old pen from my bag.

Edward thought I was about to sign, and he looked relieved.

I wrote just four words on his agreement.

No deal.

Then I slid the agreement back across the table to him.

"See you in court," I said.