Chapter 11: The ConfrontationCeleste did not take a car.She walked out of Blackwood Estate with her coat half-buttoned and her phone at four percent, past the iron gates, past the guard who opened his mouth and thought better of it. Rain had started again, thin and cold, as if the sky remembered her.*Of course it's raining,* she thought. *It always is when I leave a man.*She found a small hotel two miles down the road, the kind with a flickering sign and a night clerk who didn't ask questions. She paid for one night with the cash Mrs. Hale had quietly tucked into her coat pocket weeks ago, a gesture Celeste had thought was kindness.*Everyone in that house knew something I didn't.*The room smelled of old carpet and bleach. She sat on the edge of the bed, still in her wet coat, and stared at the wall.Used. That was the word that kept circling.She had spent seven years being useful to a man who never saw her. Now she had walked into another man's house and discovered she had been
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