Chapter 2

The other end of the line went silent.

"Last week, I told Dad that if I don't divorce Carl, I might die out there. Guess what he said?"

Aunt Lydia tried to calm me down. "He was just angry, Julia."

"He said, 'If you're going to die, die in Carl's house'." I forced a smile, but it pulled at the wound, making me gasp in pain.

Aunt Lydia sighed. "Your dad's just worried that Leonel can't find—"

"I get it," I interrupted her. "So I need them to understand something too. From now on, my life has nothing to do with them anymore."

That night, Carl kicked me out of the house again just because "the food was too salty".

I curled up on the cold stairs in the hallway, listening to him rant inside, tearing the place apart, and accusing me of hiding more money.

I knew that if I didn't leave now, the next time he beat me unconscious, I might not wake up.

The next morning, I went to the pawn shop in the southern part of the city.

I reached into my inner pocket and pulled out a small cloth pouch. Inside was an emerald ring Grandma had secretly slipped to me before she passed away.

"I'd like to pawn this." I slid the ring through the glass window.

The appraiser gave me a quote.

It was much lower than I expected, but I didn't hesitate.

…

Aunt Lydia called again.

my mother, Rylie Palmer, probably couldn't swallow her pride, so she must have sent Aunt Lydia to act as the mediator.

I was pressing an ice pack to the corner of my mouth when my phone vibrated on the table.

"Julia, the injuries you showed me in the video…" Aunt Lydia's voice was choked. "I couldn't sleep at all last night."

The melting ice water dripped down my chin.

"But the date for Leonel's wedding has already been set." She paused before saying, "The bride's family said they'll call off the engagement if he doesn't have a house. Your parents are just worried."

So she wasn't feeling sorry for me.

"Aunt Lydia," I cut in. "Carl hit me again yesterday. Before he left this morning, he said if I don't have the money tonight, he'll throw me off the balcony."

I pulled my hem back down. "Aunt Lydia, should I wait to be thrown off, or is it better to jump now and get it over with?"

There was a long silence on the other end. Then came a muffled sob. "Where are you? I'll come to get you."

"There's no need." I hung up the phone, pulled out the SIM card, and tore it in half.

That night, I didn't jump.

I slammed the four grand I got from pawning the ring down on the table in front of Carl.

"Take the four grand first."

My voice was so calm that it almost felt unfamiliar to me. "As for the remaining 64 grand, I'll write an IOU and calculate it with bank interest. After you sign the divorce papers, I'll pay you back monthly."

He flipped through the cash and eyed me with a smirk, like a predator sizing up its prey. "Oh? Look at you, getting smart now, huh? Even learned how to write an IOU?"

"It's fine if you don't want to sign."

I pointed at the balcony. "I'll jump from there right now. You won't get a single penny and will end up in a mess."

Carl stared at me, as if weighing the truth behind my words.

Maybe it was the cold emptiness in my eyes that finally scared him, or maybe he'd just figured out that pushing me to the edge wasn't worth more than an IOU.

He sneered and grabbed a pen. "Fine, we'll divorce. But the interest is going to be what I say."

I didn't flinch as I signed.

…

Once the divorce certificate was in my hands, I started packing.

On moving day, Mom showed up.

She stood downstairs, watching the movers while a few worn-out woven bags piled at my feet.

That was all I had left.

I had agreed to leave with nothing during the divorce, so all I took were a few clothes.