Chapter 5

Aliana POV:

On the morning of my thirtieth birthday, I packed a single small suitcase. A few changes of simple, untraceable clothes. A book. The new passport and identity Debi had procured. Hope Andersen.

I made my way downstairs. My parents, Richard and Eleanor, were at the breakfast table, their relief so palpable it was nauseating.

"Debi and I are going on a last-minute spa trip," I announced, the lie coating my tongue like ash. "Just for the day. To celebrate."

My mother's face lit up with a grotesque, false brightness. "Oh, darling, what a wonderful idea! You deserve it."

She bustled into the kitchen and returned with a steaming cup of tea in her favorite china. "A special calming blend, darling. For your nerves. You've been so tense lately."

I took the cup. It had the faint, tell-tale scent of bitter almonds mixed with chamomile. The sedative.

I knew it was drugged. I brought the cup to my lips and drank half of it, the warm liquid a final, poisonous gift from the woman who gave me life. Then I feigned a wave of dizziness, my hand fluttering to my forehead.

"Oh... I feel a little faint."

They rushed to my side, their faces masks of concern. "You poor thing," my mother cooed, helping me to a chair. "You've been overdoing it. Go upstairs and rest, darling. The spa can wait."

My father's arm circled my waist, guiding me up the stairs. I let my head rest against his shoulder, looking up at them through my lashes. "Are you sorry?" I asked, my voice small and weak, the voice of the girl they thought they knew. "For all the years I lost?"

"Of course, we are, sweetheart," Richard said, his voice thick with false sincerity. "But we have you now. That's all that matters."

In the master bathroom, I locked the door, knelt before the toilet, and forced my fingers down my throat. I vomited until only bitter bile remained, my body convulsing with the effort of expelling their poison. I washed my face, staring at the stranger in the mirror. Her eyes were cold, her mouth set in a hard line.

I changed into simple, dark, anonymous clothes. Black jeans, a grey sweater.

From my closet, I retrieved a single, immaculately wrapped gift box.

Using an anonymous app on a burner phone, I booked a courier. The instructions were precise. Deliver the package to the VIP suite at the Starlight Restaurant, Starlight Amusement Park. At 12:00 PM sharp.

To: Mr. Ivan Hughes.

I drove to a scenic overlook a few miles from the park. Through a pair of powerful binoculars, I watched them. Ivan, Kiera, Leo, and my parents. They walked through the private entrance, a perfect, happy family. Leo rode on Ivan's shoulders, his laughter carrying on the faint breeze. Kiera held Ivan's hand, a picture of contentment. My parents walked beside them, doting on the boy.

A text from Debi came through on the burner phone.

Wheels up when you are. Be safe.

I lowered the binoculars, the image of that perfect family burned into my mind. Then I blocked every number in my old phone's contacts, wiped it clean of all data, and let it fall into a storm drain. It disappeared with a quiet splash.

I started walking toward the airport.

And I didn't look back.