Chapter 4

My mind raced. I couldn't let him see me, not yet. Just as Ivan took a step closer, the administrative manager I had bribed rushed over, a placating smile on her face.

"Mr. Hughes, so sorry. This is a temp. She has a terrible flu, didn't want to spread any germs."

Ivan's suspicion receded, replaced by annoyance. He waved a dismissive hand and turned back to Kiera.

I fled. That night, I called my best friend, Debi Frost. She wasn't just my friend; she was a shark of a lawyer, the sharpest mind I knew. We met at a noisy downtown coffee shop, a place where no one would notice us.

I laid it all out. The secret gallery, the child, the five-year lie. I slid the flash drive across the table. Her face, usually so animated, became a mask of cold fury as she listened.

"Those bastards," she breathed, her knuckles white as she gripped her coffee cup. "All of them. Your parents, too. Aliana, we are going to destroy them."

"I don't want to destroy them, Debi," I said quietly. "I just want to disappear. I want a clean break."

Debi studied my face, then nodded slowly. "Okay. If that's what you want. We can do that."

"Leave? Aliana, you're entitled to half of Ivan's assets, not to mention a massive settlement from your parents for the emotional distress..."

"I don't want their money," I said, the words tasting like ash. "Their money is what they used to buy my silence, my compliance. It's tainted. I want nothing from them."

Debi studied my face, then nodded slowly. "Okay. If that's what you want. A clean break. We can do that. We'll prepare the divorce papers, cite infidelity. And a document renouncing any claim to the Donovan family inheritance. We'll make it airtight."

As we were planning, Debi pulled out another file, her expression grim. "Aliana, look at this. Ivan's been making regular purchases from a private pharmacy. Large quantities of sleeping pills."

It clicked into place. The strange fogginess I'd felt some mornings. The times I'd slept for twelve hours straight, only to wake up and find Ivan and my parents gone, supposedly on an "urgent family matter." They had been drugging me. Drugging me so they could go and play happy family with Kiera and Leo.

Debi's eyes widened in horror. "They're going to do it again on your birthday, aren't they? Drug you so you sleep through the day while they take that boy to the amusement park."

The last flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was some twisted, misguided love behind their actions died. This was pure, calculated cruelty.

I started to laugh. It was a hollow, broken sound that had nothing to do with humor. "Of course," I said, shaking my head. "Of course, they would."

Debi reached across the table and grabbed my hand. Her grip was firm, grounding. "Aliana, you can't go home."

"Oh, I'm going," I said, my eyes hard. "I'm going to let them think their plan is working perfectly. And then, I'm going to vanish."

That afternoon, in Debi's office, I signed the papers. The divorce petition. The legal renunciation of the Donovan name and fortune. With each stroke of the pen, I felt a chain breaking. I was cutting myself free.

I went online and booked a one-way ticket to a small, coastal town in Oregon under a new name, a name I hadn't used since I was a child in the system, before they found me. A name that was truly mine. Hope Andersen. The flight was for Saturday night, the night of my birthday party. The party I wasn't invited to. The party that would serve as my grand finale.

When I got back to the mansion, Ivan was there, humming as he stood in front of his computer. He quickly minimized the screen when I walked in, but I caught a glimpse of the amusement park's VIP services page-private fireworks, a gourmet lunch.

In the reflection of the dark screen, I could see his phone light up on the desk behind me. A message from my mother: "Everything is set. Can't wait to celebrate Leo's big day!"

My husband. My parents. Forgetting my birthday to celebrate the son of my nemesis.

"Just sorting out a client package," he said, not meeting my eyes.

"You should get some rest," I said, my voice soft.

He kissed me, a quick, dismissive peck on the cheek. "I love you," he said.

"I know," I replied, the words a hollow echo.

That night, I lay alone in our bed, the sheets cold beside me. For the first time in five years, the loneliness didn't hurt. It felt like freedom. I was no longer Aliana Donovan, the long-lost daughter, the happy wife. I was a ghost in my own life, counting down the hours until I could finally disappear.