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Ethan was still in Zurich, presumably with Chloe, when Sarah moved out.
She took only her personal belongings, the things that were truly hers before Ethan Hayes had reshaped her world.
Her books, her father' s old tweed jacket, a few cherished photographs.
She left the penthouse almost bare of her presence.
On the marble island in the kitchen, where she' d first seen the magazine cover proclaiming his devotion, she left a single, thick envelope.
Inside: the signed divorce papers.
She requested a clean break, no alimony, just her freedom.
The Ashworth trust made her financially independent. She wanted nothing from him.
Ethan returned two days later, expecting his adoring wife.
He found an empty home, the silence amplifying the absence of her things.
The divorce papers were the first thing he saw.
He was served formally by a courier from her new lawyer' s office an hour later, as he stood in stunned disbelief in their cavernous living room.
His reaction, as relayed later by a tight-lipped doorman, was predictable.
First, incredulity. He called her phone repeatedly, each call going straight to voicemail.
Then, rage. He reportedly smashed a vase, one of his "trophies" from an art auction.
Finally, when he managed to get through to her lawyer' s office and was stonewalled, he resorted to pleading.
He left a string of voicemails on Sarah' s new, unlisted number, which her lawyer had insisted she get.
"Sarah, baby, what is this? A mistake? Some kind of joke?"
"You can' t do this to us! After everything we' ve built!"
"Remember your father, Sarah! I was there! I saved you!"
"I love you! Don' t throw this away! We can fix this!"
Each message was a testament to his manipulative tactics, his inability to comprehend that she could, and would, leave him.
He reminded her of "everything he' s done for her," his voice cracking with feigned emotion one moment, sharp with anger the next.
Sarah listened to them once, her face impassive, then deleted them.
The chains were broken. She was free.
The gilded cage stood empty.