Best Man, Best Choice

After I left the hospital, I crashed at a nearby hotel just to get through the night. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing—Malcolm, over and over.

[Irene, where are you?]

[Why aren't you here yet?]

[Why the hell didn't you come?!]

I barely looked before blocking him everywhere. Then I called movers to clear out the rest of my stuff from the Irving place.

But the second I walked into my room, I froze.

Total wreck.

Everything was trashed—clothes shredded, stomped on, curtains yanked halfway off. Even worse? All my jewelry was gone.

My stomach dropped as I tore through the mess.

"Irene, how do you still have the nerve to come back?" Lumi sneered behind me. "Didn't you run off with that trashy new husband of yours?"

I didn't even flinch. I was done here. Just kept packing, silent.

But of course, she wouldn't shut up. She eyed the wreckage and clicked her tongue. "Malcolm got me a puppy. We cleared out your room for my baby. Why's there still trash lying around?"

So Malcolm helped trash my room too.

I let out this hollow laugh, too mad to hold it in.

"Perfect. Saves me the trouble. None of this is mine anymore. You clean it up."

I dropped the shredded clothes and turned to leave—until Lumi blocked me.

"If it's not yours, does that include this?" she said, waving a stack of my sketches.

"Looked like a lotta work. Must be important, huh? Too bad it's worthless. I'll go ahead and burn it for you."

Before all this—back when I was still their daughter—I had to hide everything I loved like it was contraband. Those sketches? Years of work, done in secret.

She looked at them like they were trash, and this cold dread sank into me.

I'd only ever told Malcolm. Never thought he'd spill to her.

"Those are mine," I said. "Give them back."

Lumi smirked. "You want them? Get on your knees and beg. Maybe I'll think about it."

For those sketches, I swallowed my pride. Dropped to my knees.

She lit up, laughing like she'd won.

Then—she ripped them to shreds.

"Oops, I ruined them by accident," Lumi said, all wide-eyed and fake sweet.

Something snapped.

I stood up and slapped her—hard. Went to swing again, but someone shoved me. I crashed into the cabinet, pain tearing through my wrist as blood gushed out.

Malcolm stepped in front of her.

He saw the blood, paused for half a second, then barked, "Irene, are you insane? You actually hit Lumi?!"

"It's not Irene's fault..." Lumi whispered, all fragile. "I just... accidentally ruined her things..."

"They're just some useless scraps of paper," Malcolm snapped. "What's the big deal?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "Those were my sketches, Malcolm. You KNOW how much they meant to me. So why did SHE have them?"

He didn't answer. Just kept babying Lumi while shooting me a glare.

"Take her away," he told his men. "Watch her. Don't let her lose it again."

Then he walked off—careful, gentle—leading Lumi out.

Malcolm's guards dragged me into the Lowell estate's basement and tied me up.

The cold bit deep. Blood loss made everything spin. Darkness pressed in from all sides.

My vision blurred, fading fast.

Then—the basement door slammed open.

Light poured in. A figure broke through the glare, sprinting straight for me.