“Yes.”
“Say it back to me.”
“This is the last time.”
“Good. Now go pack your things. Don’t tell Vanessa where you’re going. Just leave.”
That night, I sat in the penthouse for the first time without crying.
I had brought a sleeping bag, a pillow, and Chinese takeout. I ate on the floor in the living room while the city lights flickered on and the sun set over Central Park.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Linda.
Vanessa called me. Said you ruined her marriage. Said you’re hiding money and she’s going to sue. What’s going on?
I blocked her number.
Then I pulled out the emerald ring, my mother’s ring, the one Vanessa had demanded, and took a photo of it.
I uploaded the photo to Christie’s auction site under estate jewelry.
Estimated value: $8,500.
Proceeds to benefit Saint Vincent’s Hospital Nursing Scholarship Fund.
