Chapter 1. The Sad Departure

*Julliane*

"Julliane! Hurry up and pack your things now! Youre coming with me!"

The sharp voice of my mother pierced through the early morning stillness like a blade, dragging me out of sleep with a jolt. I blinked at the ceiling, my heart sinking before I even swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My weekend peace was shattered.

Just days ago, she had married Mister Dankworth, a name that still felt foreign and unwelcome in my mouth. The ceremony had been small, abrupt, and filled with people I didn't know, just fourteen days after they broke the news to my grandfather and me. I hadn't approved of it, and truthfully, I hadn't thought she'd actually go through with it. At least, not so soon. And certainly not at the expense of dragging me into her new life.

I had held onto a naive hope that she would leave without me. That I could finish school here, in the house I grew up in, with Grandpa. But that illusion shattered as she barged into my room, already pulling open my closet doors with an air of impatience.

"Mom," I mumbled, my voice still thick with sleep, "it's too early... I thought you already left the city?"

She didn't look at me. Her movements were fast and erratic, tugging clothes off hangers, tossing them into a half-open suitcase on the floor. Her tone was clipped, her lips pursed with annoyance.

"I told you about this weeks ago, Julliane. Don't act surprised. Our flight is this afternoon. I don't want to keep my husband waiting, he already bought the tickets. Nonrefundable. So get moving."

I stood slowly, dragging my feet toward the closet as though each step carried the weight of a thousand regrets. My fingers brushed the familiar fabric of my school uniform, my old jacket, the sweater Grandpa gave me last Christmas. None of this felt real.

It wasn't until I heard the steady thump of my grandfather's cane that I paused completely.

"What is this, Marriane?" Grandpa's voice carried down the hallway and into my room. "Why are you here again? I thought you'd already left us alone."

A flicker of hope lit in my chest. Grandpa had never been one to back down from my mother. Maybe, just maybe, he could stop this from happening.

My mother turned to face him, her lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer. "Good to see you too, old man. I'm here because I'm taking Julliane with me. She's my daughter, after all."

There was venom in her voice, coated in the same sarcasm she always reserved for him. Their relationship had been strained for as long as I could remember. She thought he was overbearing and judgmental. He believed she was manipulative and selfish. Neither of them was entirely wrong.

"You can leave Julie here," Grandpa said firmly, leaning harder on his cane as he stepped into the room. "You know she doesn't want to go with you. Why force her to leave school and go live on some remote island with a man she barely knows? She's better off here, with me."

My mother's eyes flashed with anger as she turned to me. I froze. Her gaze was sharp, warning. I was still halfway through packing my first suitcase, and the delay hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Keep packing, Julliane," she hissed. "And as for you, Arnold, you have no legal say in this. She's my daughter. I'm her mother. She's still a minor, and I'm making the decisions. Whether you like it or not."

Grandpa slammed the tip of his cane against the wooden floor with a loud crack. His hands trembled, not from age, but from fury.

"You're as selfish now as you were then," he growled. "You think I don't remember how you used my son? He worked himself to the bone trying to please you. Late nights, double shifts, weekend contracts, all to give you the life you wanted. You drained him, Marriane. And now that he's gone, you just toss his memory aside like it means nothing and remarry before the grass has even grown over his grave."

I flinched. The air in the room grew thick with tension, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. His words cut deep, echoing truths that I had tried not to confront myself. Dad had been sick for months before he passed. Stress, overwork, exhaustion, it all caught up to him. And she'd hardly slowed down since.

"Enough!" Mom snapped, her hands on her hips. "You think your bitterness gives you the moral high ground? Move on, Arnold. Your son loved me, and I loved him in my own way. But he's gone now, and I deserve to be happy. I found someone who can give me the life I want. You can't hold me hostage to the past."

She picked up the half-packed suitcase and rolled it toward the hallway. Before stepping out, she paused to throw one final look at Grandpa. "You can't stop me. And you can't stop her either."

The door slammed behind her.

I stood there, my hands trembling, my eyes stinging with the tears I refused to let fall. Grandpa sat down heavily on the edge of my bed. His shoulders sagged under the weight of it all, and the anger in his face slowly melted into sadness.

"You don't have to go, Julie," he said softly, not looking at me. "You know that. If I had custody, things would be different. But I don't... and the law's not on our side."

I sat beside him, the suitcase momentarily forgotten.

"I know, Grandpa," I whispered. "But if I don't go, she'll never stop. She'll drag you into court or do something worse. You know how she is. Maybe it's better if I go and see for myself."

He turned to me, his eyes wet. "If they ever treat you badly, if you ever feel unhappy, you come back here. You hear me? This house will always be your home."

I nodded, biting my lip hard to keep it from trembling. I wanted to stay. But I couldn't see another way.

"I'll visit," I promised. "As often as I can. And I'll call. Every week."

He reached for my hand, his grip firm despite the tremor in his fingers.

"You're braver than you think," he said, "and smarter than she gives you credit for. Don't let them change who you are, Julie."

I hugged him tightly, burying my face into the shoulder of the one person who had always been there for me.

Minutes later, I zipped up the last suitcase and pulled it to the door. With every step I took, my heart grew heavier, like I was walking away from a life I might never get back.

As the taxi pulled into the driveway, and my mother's voice echoed from outside, I turned back one last time.

Grandpa stood in the doorway, waving slowly, his figure growing smaller as I moved toward a future I didn't choose.

But somewhere inside me, a quiet resolve began to form.

This wasn't the end. Just a beginning I hadn't expected.

And no matter where I was taken, no matter what awaited me on that island,I would find a way back. Back to myself. Back home with my grandpa.