Chapter 4

Three days passed after Leo was discharged.

Life moved faster than I anticipated, but every hour felt like wading through fire.

Brenda constantly brought up the blind date.

"Stella, the man asked for a picture of you first."

"Give me that nice passport photo of yours so I can text it to your uncle."

"Stella, his name is Gary Miller. He’s eight years older than you."

"Doesn't smoke, doesn't drink, owns his own business. A real catch."

"Stella, your uncle said their family is willing to put down thirty thousand dollars in cash as an upfront arrangement."

"Thirty grand! What other girl in this town gets that kind of money offered for her hand?"

I listened to her with a polite, vacant smile on my face, counting down the days in my head.

Eleven days until next Saturday.

"I know, Mom. I’ll be there."

I repeated the exact same line every time.

Convinced I had yielded, Brenda flashed satisfied, predatory smiles.

She had no idea that my "I’ll be there" didn't mean showing up for a date.

By day, I attended my college lectures. In the evening, I tutored, and on weekends, I worked long shifts at the boba shop.

Nobody knew what I was assembling in the shadows.

I was gathering hard evidence.

The receipt for the dish soap—Brenda bought it at the corner convenience store, and I had the transaction screenshot from her shared account.

The 911 audio log—the recording of me reporting the address and symptoms, proving how critical the situation was.

The doctor's diagnosis—stating "chemical burn to esophagus caused by accidental ingestion of toxic detergent."

And most crucially—the audio file of Brenda urging Leo to drink the dish soap.

I sorted every piece of evidence, printed clean copies, and sealed them into a manila folder.

On the front, I wrote one word: Evidence.

One night, I returned from my shift at the boba shop around ten o'clock.

The living room lights were blazing.

Brenda sat on the couch, several photographs spread out on the glass table.

"You're back," she said, her tone cold and stiff. "Come sit down."

I walked over and sat across from her.

The photo on top showed a burly man standing in front of a sedan, wearing a forced, greasy grin.

"This is Gary Miller. I told you about him," she said, sliding the picture toward me.

"He said he’s very pleased with your photos. He wants to meet this weekend instead."

"Mom, didn't we agree on next Saturday?"

"He can't wait that long," she snapped, her eyes boring into mine.

"He said if things look good, he wants the wedding papers signed next month."

I paused.

"Mom, I’m only twenty, and I haven't graduated yet. Getting married next month is insane."

"Insane? When I was twenty, you were already two years old!"

Her tone hardened instantly.

"Mom, I said I’d meet him, but marriage is off the table until after I graduate."

"Graduate, graduate! What useless dream are you chasing with that worthless degree?!" She slammed her hand down and shot up from the sofa.

"I’m telling you, Stella, this isn't up to you!"

"Your brother's health is ruined right now. He has to rest at home and can't work!"

"Your uncle confirmed that Gary is offering thirty thousand dollars in cash, plus he’s buying Leo a brand-new electric scooter!"

"Where on earth are you ever going to find an offer this generous?!"

I looked at her enraged face and asked quietly, "So... you're selling me off just to buy my brother a scooter?"

Brenda’s cheeks flushed crimson.

"What do you mean 'selling'?! That’s getting married! Isn't that how every woman lives?!"

"I put food on your plate! I put clothes on your back! When did I ever treat you wrong?!"

She grew louder and more hysterical with every breath.

"I’m exhausted, Mom. I’m going to bed."

I stood up and headed for my room.

"Stop right there!" she screamed behind me.

I didn't slow down.

"Stella Vance! You think you're grown now?!"

"I’m telling you right now: you will see Gary this weekend! If you don't, don't you dare step foot in this house again!"

I halted and turned around.

"Are you being serious, Mom?"

"Do I sound like I'm joking?!"

"If I don't go on this date, you're kicking me out?"

Brenda’s eyes flickered with brief hesitation, quickly replaced by vicious resolve.

"If you don't obey me, get the hell out! This house doesn't harbor ungrateful leeches!"

I smiled. "Fine."

Brenda froze, utterly stunned by my reaction.

Without giving her time to process, I turned back into my bedroom and began packing.

Clothes, textbooks, my ID, bank cards, and the manila envelope packed with evidence.

I shoved everything into an old carry-on suitcase.

Brenda stormed into my room. Seeing the open suitcase, her jaw dropped.

"What... what do you think you’re doing?!"

"Didn't you say it yourself? If I don't obey, get the hell out. So, I’m getting out."

"You... you dare?!" Her voice began to shake.

"If you walk out that door tonight, don't you ever come back!"

I didn't answer. I zipped the bag and rolled it out.

As I passed the living room, Leo was sprawled on the sofa playing mobile games.

He glanced up at me, a petty, gloating smirk spreading across his lips.

"Come on, Stella, just apologize to Mom. You really think she’s kicking you out?"

I looked at him once, said nothing, and reached for the front door.

As the heavy door swung shut behind me, Brenda’s muffled screech echoed through the hallway:

"Let her leave! Let’s see how far she gets! She’ll come crawling back on her knees crying within three days!"

The elevator arrived. I stepped in.

As the doors closed, I leaned my head against the cold steel wall and let out a long, trembling breath.

In my past life, I was kicked out countless times.

Every single time, I came back sobbing, begging on my knees for her mercy.

Not this time. I was never coming back.

Reaching the lobby, I stepped out into the pouring rain.

Standing under the downpour, I pulled out my phone and dialed.

"Hello, Mr. Davis? It’s Stella Vance."

"Ms. Vance? It’s late, is something wrong?"

"I want to know: if I go to the police right now, what is the exact legal procedure?"

The line went silent for a few seconds.

"Ms. Vance, are you certain about this?"

"Completely certain."

"Understood. I will accompany you to the precinct tomorrow morning."

"Also, regarding your father's will—I verified it. His old comrade, Jim, indeed holds the original copy, and we can summon it as legal evidence anytime."

"Thank you, Mr. Davis."

"One more thing," Davis added solemnly. "You paid your brother's medical bills out of pocket, correct? Do you have the transaction records?"

"Yes. Banking statements, payment receipts—everything is saved."

"Excellent. Those will all serve as proof of coercion and extortion."

Hanging up, I stood in the rain, staring back at the fourth floor of the building where I had lived for twenty years.

The living room light was still on.

That was the place I once thought I would never escape.

Now, I had walked out on my own two feet.

The rain beat down harder, soaking through my jacket.

I checked my maps app for the nearest cheap motel.

The lowest rate was $120 a night.

I only had three thousand dollars left in my account. Between food, tuition, and basic survival, I couldn't afford to burn through it on hotels.

Dragging my suitcase through the downpour, I finally huddled under a bus stop awning.

Just wait until the rain lets up, I told myself. Then I'll figure something out.

I wrapped my arms around my suitcase and curled into a ball against the bench.

My phone buzzed.

A text from Brenda: If you don't come home tomorrow, don't ever come back. Your brother needs someone to care for him. How can you be this selfish?

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the keys. After a long moment, I hit delete.

Then I opened my notes app and typed:

June 10th, 10:00 PM. Mother attempted to coerce me into an arranged marriage for financial gain and threatened to cast me out. I left the household voluntarily.

Finished, I leaned back against the wet bench and shut my eyes.

Sometime later, the steady sound of rain was broken by the hum of an engine.

Headlights cut through the dark.

A patrol car pulled up slowly in front of the bus stop.