On the morning of my third day of house arrest, there were three soft taps on my window.It was the signal I'd been waiting for.I quietly opened the window. A man in black handed me a package. Inside was a new ID, a passport, and a plane ticket."Flight's at 2 PM. A car will be waiting at the back gate," he whispered.I nodded. Staring at the documents that represented my freedom, my heart was a mix of emotions.I had already packed a small bag with only the essentials and the few things my mother had left me. I didn't want anything else from this place.At ten in the morning, I heard the rumble of engines. Peeking through the curtains, I saw Edmund arrive with a procession of black cars, his men in tow. He was wearing a sharp, black suit, looking impossibly handsome and imposing.My replacement, Laura, appeared before him, her face hidden by a thick, heavy veil. It was a Schroder family tradition—the veil could only be lifted at the altar, after the vows. A tradition I was now deeply
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