Chapter 2

I used to build skyscrapers in my mind.

Now, I was building walls around my heart.

I sat in the hospital room, a sketchbook open on my lap. But I wasn't drawing floor plans anymore.

I was memorizing legal statutes.

Hidden beneath a rough sketch of a garden was a printout of the state's divorce laws and property division codes.

Garrison thought I spent my days wiping counters and nursing my mother.

He didn't know I had spent the last six months waking up at 4:00 AM to study online law courses.

I closed the book as the nurse walked in to check my mother's IV.

"She is looking a little better today," the nurse said kindly.

"She's a fighter," I said.

Like me.

I had set a deadline.

One month.

In thirty days, the annual charity gala would take place. It was the night Garrison planned to announce his new partnership structure.

It was also the night I would vanish.

I opened my diary and wrote one sentence.

I will be no one's accessory.

Two days later, Garrison hosted a welcome party for Kayla.

She had just returned from a "business trip" in Paris.

The living room was filled with the city's elite. Lawyers, judges, investors. The people I used to know. The people who used to ask me about my designs.

Now, they looked right through me.

I wore a simple black dress. It was five years old.

Kayla wore red.

She stood in the center of the room, holding a glass of champagne, surrounded by men who hung on her every word. Garrison stood next to her, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back.

"To Kayla!" someone toasted. "The future of Gardner Law!"

"To Kayla!" the room echoed.

I stood in the corner, holding a tray of appetizers I had made myself.

No one toasted the woman who cooked the food.

Then, Kayla spotted me.

Her eyes glinted.

She whispered something to Garrison, then walked over to me, dragging him along. The crowd parted for them.

"Janet," Kayla said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "The party is wonderful. You really have a talent for... domestic service."

A few people chuckled.

"Thank you, Kayla," I said evenly. "I am glad you enjoy it."

"Oh, I do," she said. She took a sip of her drink. "By the way, Garrison told me about your mother. I am so sorry. But really, Janet, you should not let her condition distract Garrison. He has been so stressed handling her medical bills."

My grip tightened on the tray.

"My inheritance paid for those bills," I said. "Garrison hasn't spent a dime."

The chatter nearby stopped.

Garrison's face darkened.

"Janet," he warned.

Kayla pouted. "Oh, honey, I didn't mean to upset her. I just think... well, since I am going to be handling the family trust soon, maybe Janet should apologize for being so difficult about the finances. It reflects poorly on you."

She looked at me expectantly.

"Apologize," Kayla said. "For stressing Garrison out."

The room went silent.

Everyone watched. The wife and the favorite.

Garrison looked at me. "Janet, just say you are sorry. Let's not make a scene."

He wanted me to apologize for using my own money to keep my mother alive.

I looked at his hand on her waist.

I looked at the sneer on Tiffany's face in the crowd.

"No," I said.

Kayla blinked. "Excuse me?"

I set the tray down on a nearby table. The metal clattered loudly against the glass.

"My mother is dying," I said, my voice clear and calm. "I have spent every penny I have to save her. I have cleaned this house, cooked your meals, and supported this firm for five years. I have nothing to apologize for."

I looked directly at Kayla.

"If anyone should apologize, it is the woman drinking champagne while discussing a dying woman's bills."

Kayla gasped. She turned to Garrison and switched to French.

"Chéri, she is humiliating me. Do something."

She thought I didn't speak French.

She didn't know I had spent my junior year in Lyon studying gothic architecture.

Tiffany, standing nearby, laughed. "Does she think she is actually Mrs. Gardner? She is just the help with a ring."

I looked at them.

I realized then that their cruelty wasn't personal. It was structural. To them, I wasn't a person. I was an obstacle.

"I understand," I said.

I looked at Garrison.

"I will be out of your way soon."

He frowned, looking confused. "Janet, stop being dramatic. Go to the kitchen and cool off."

"Happy Birthday to me," I whispered.

I turned and walked out the front door.

I didn't go to the kitchen.

I walked straight into the night air.

No one stopped me.

No one even knew it was my birthday.