My bedroom 10

The one who left 

~Delia~ 

I stood on the sidewalk long after the Rolls Royce disappeared into traffic, my heels digging into the pavement as if I needed something solid to keep me from floating away. The noise of Brooklyn came back slowly, cars passing, voices from inside the restaurant, someone laughing too loudly behind me, 

but none of it felt real. 

All I could see was Katia. Not the Katia I remembered. The sister who walked out of our house in a 

bathrobe six years ago looking like she had nowhere to go and no one to run to wasn’t the sister I met today. This Katia had walked out of that restaurant like she owned the world, like she had nothing to 

prove and no one to impress. 

And that car. That damn fucking car. 

I turned slowly to face my friends, who were staring at me like they had just witnessed a celebrity sighting and were trying to piece together how they knew her. 

“Guys,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes, “I need to leave. We’ll chat later.” 

Maya blinked. “Delia, who was that? You didn’t tell us your sister was-” 

“I’ll explain later,” I cut her off gently. 

Lila looked between me and the road. “That was a Rolls Royce, Delia.” 

“I know,” I whispered. 

I didn’t wait for more questions. I walked to my car, slid into the driver’s seat, and just sat there for a moment with my hands on the steering wheel, trying to slow my racing thoughts, because this didn’t 

make sense. 

The Katia I remembered had been thrown out with nothing. No money. Mom made sure of that. I remembered standing by my bedroom window that night, my heart pounding in my chest, watching through the curtains because I wanted to see where she’d go and also wanted to see if she was okay. 

But then, I saw a black Rolls Royce pulling up outside the gate, and then a woman stepping out, opening the door for Katia like she was royalty. Helping her into the back seat. The car drove off so smoothly it almost looked like it was floating. 

I had convinced myself I imagined it, but today? I saw it again, even though it wasn’t the car. And this time, it wasn’t imagination. 

I started the car and drove home faster than I should have, my mind jumping from one thought to the 

next. 

If Katia had access to cars like that the night she was thrown out… and again today… then whoever she went to that night wasn’t some random nobody. 

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The man she married in Vegas must be very, very rich. 

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By the time I pulled into the driveway of our mansion, my heart was pounding like I’d run a marathon. I didn’t even bother closing the car door properly. I rushed inside, heels clicking loudly across the marble floor. 

“Mom! Dad!” I shouted. “Please come out! It’s Katia!” 

My parents came out of the living room almost immediately. 

Dad looked alarmed. “Katia? Where is she?” 

“She’s not here,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “But I just saw her. At The Velvet Ember.” 

Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean Katia can afford to eat at The Velvet Ember?” 

“Dad,” I said slowly, “she is rich. Like… rich, rich.” 

Mom frowned immediately. “What do you mean that disappointment is rich?” 

I almost laughed, but nothing about this was funny. 

“Mom, Dad,” I said carefully, “there’s something I never told you.” 

They both looked at me. 

“The night Katia was kicked out,” I continued, “I peeked through my window to make sure she was okay. I didn’t tell you because I thought maybe I imagined it. But I didn’t.” 

Dad stepped closer. “What did you see?” 

“A black Rolls Royce pulled up outside the gate. A woman got out, opened the back door for Katia, and helped her inside like she was important. Like she was expected.” 

Mom’s face drained of color. “What?” 

“Yes,” I nodded. “And today, she was picked up by a Rolls Royce again.” 

Mom waved her hand dismissively. “Delia, being picked up by a Rolls Royce doesn’t mean anything. She could have hired it for show.” 

Dad turned to her sharply. “Woman, how much do you think it costs to hire a Rolls Royce? Even if she hired it, it means she has money.” 

I nodded. “Dad’s right. Except… Katia didn’t hire it. It didn’t look like a rental. It looked like it belonged to her. And the car that picked her up six years ago wasn’t the same one that picked her up today with her 

son.” 

Dad froze. “Son?” 

“Yes,” I said. “She has a little boy. Aiden. He’s about five.” 

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Mom’s hand went to her mouth. “She… she kept the baby?” 

“She didn’t just keep him,” I said quietly. “She’s raising him. And from the way he spoke, from the way he carried himself… he’s being raised very well.” 

They both stared at me like I had just spoken a foreign language. 

“And that’s not even the craziest part,” I said. 

“What could be crazier than this?” Dad asked. 

I pulled the business card from my purse and handed it to him. 

He read it. Then read it again, and then his face changed. 

“Katia Kingston,” he whispered. “CEO and Owner… I* Technologies?” 

Mom grabbed the card from his hand. “What?” 

“Dad,” I said, my voice shaking now, “she told me she bought the company four years ago.” 

Both of them went completely still. None spoke; you could tell they were shocked. 

“That’s the company…” Dad began. 

“The one you lost the deal to,” I finished for him. 

Mom’s eyes widened. “No. No, that’s impossible.” 

“She owns it,” I said. “She paid for her lunch with a black card like it was nothing. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t brag. She didn’t try to prove anything. She was just… calm, like this is her life now.” 

Dad sank into the chair slowly. “She’s richer than me.” 

Mom stared at the card like it might burst into flames. 

“And if she owns that company,” I added quietly, “then whoever she married is even richer.” 

Because Katia didn’t build that alone. Not from nothing. Not from the streets. 

Someone had helped her. 

Someone powerful. 

Someone with money, influence, and access. 

And suddenly, the Rolls Royce from that night didn’t feel like a coincidence anymore. 

It felt like a clue we all ignored. 

Mom finally spoke, her voice trembling. “Do you think… do you think she married into money?” 

I looked at her. “I think she married into something much bigger than we ever imagined.” 

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Dad looked up at me, eyes wide. “Delia… what if…” 

He didn’t finish the sentence. 

But I knew what he was thinking. 

What if the man Katia married in Vegas… 

Was not a mistake? 

What if he was someone important? 

Someone powerful? 

Someone we should have paid attention to? 

I swallowed hard. 

Because for the first time in six years, I wasn’t thinking about how Katia ruined our family’s plans. 

I was thinking about how we might have completely misunderstood what really happened the night she 

left. 

And something told me… We were about to find out. 

P 

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