Chapter Three: I Don’t Want To Lose My Family

Amelia sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the closed door long after the house fell quiet.

The muffled sounds of the party had faded. Guests had left. Congratulations had turned into whispers, then into nothing at all. Somewhere downstairs, dishes clinked as staff cleaned up the remnants of a celebration that no longer belonged to her.

Her suitcase stood open at her feet, half-filled. She hadn’t moved in several minutes.

The silence pressed in, heavy and suffocating.

A knock came, sharp and impatient.

“Amelia,” Sylvia called from the other side. “Open this door.”

Amelia didn’t answer.

The handle rattled. “I know you’re in there.”

Slowly, Amelia stood and crossed the room. She unlocked the door and stepped back.

Sylvia walked in first, arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line. Natasha followed, eyes bright with something that looked too much like victory.

“Well,” Sylvia said, looking around the room. “You’ve certainly caused enough trouble for one night.”

Amelia blinked. “I caused trouble?”

Sylvia sighed dramatically. “You embarrassed this family.”

Amelia laughed, the sound brittle. “Your daughter slept with my fiancé.”

Natasha shrugged. “Ex-fiancé.”

The word hit harder than Amelia expected.

“You don’t feel bad at all,” Amelia said, her voice low.

Natasha met her gaze without flinching. “Why should I? Evan wanted me. You can’t steal someone who doesn’t want to be stolen.”

Sylvia nodded. “Exactly. If your relationship were strong, this wouldn’t have happened.”

For a moment, Amelia wondered if she had misheard them. If this was some twisted joke.

“So that’s it?” she asked quietly. “You blame me?”

Sylvia’s eyes softened, but not with kindness. With condescension. “Amelia, you’ve always had things come easily. Your father adored you. People admired you. Natasha has lived in your shadow for years.”

Amelia’s hands curled into fists. “That gives her the right to destroy my life?”

“It gives her the right to be happy,” Sylvia replied.

Natasha stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I loved him first.”

Amelia stared at her. “That’s a lie.”

Natasha smiled faintly. “Believe what you want.”

The room felt smaller with them in it. The walls that had once kept Amelia safe now felt like they were closing in.

Davis appeared in the doorway then, his face drawn and tired. “Enough,” he said quietly.

Relief washed through Amelia at the sight of him. “Dad—”

He raised a hand, cutting her off. “This shouldn’t have happened,” he said, looking at all three women. “But screaming and pointing fingers won’t fix it.”

Amelia’s chest tightened. “Fix it?”

Sylvia turned to him. “She’s overreacting. These things happen.”

Davis rubbed his temple. “Natasha, go to your room.”

Natasha rolled her eyes but obeyed, brushing past Amelia as if she didn’t exist.

Sylvia lingered a moment longer. “You need to calm down,” she told Amelia. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

Then she left too.

The door closed.

Amelia turned to her father, hope trembling in her chest. “You saw her,” she said. “You heard her. Say something.”

Davis looked away.

“I need time,” he said. “You know how your stepmother is.”

The words landed like a slap.

Time.

That was all he had ever asked for since her mother died. Time to adjust. Time to keep the peace. Time that always seemed to cost Amelia something.

“So that’s it,” she whispered. “You’re choosing silence again.”

“It’s not that simple,” he said.

“It is,” Amelia replied. “You just won’t choose me.”

Davis’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t want to lose my family.”

Amelia swallowed hard. “You already have.”

She picked up her suitcase and walked past him.

“Amelia,” he called after her. “Where will you go?”

She paused at the doorway, not turning around. “Somewhere I’m not disposable.”

Downstairs, the house felt hollow. The lights were dim. The flowers were wilting already, petals scattered on the floor like pieces of a broken promise.

Amelia stepped outside and breathed in the cool night air. Her phone buzzed in her hand.

A text from Evan.

Please talk to me. I made a mistake.

She deleted it without replying.

Another message followed, this time from Natasha.

You’ll be fine. You always land on your feet.

Amelia shut her phone off completely.

She didn’t know where she was going yet. She only knew she couldn’t stay here. Not with people who shared her blood but not her loyalty.

As she dragged her suitcase toward the gate, a strange calm settled over her. Beneath the pain, beneath the betrayal, something else stirred.

Freedom.

And somewhere in the city beyond the walls of that house, a night waited for her.

One that would change everything.