Chapter 194
CHAPTER 6
Isla fled the dining room, her footsteps quick and uneven as if she
were being chased by the weight of everything she had just witnessed.
She didn’t stop until she reached the safety of her bedroom,
slamming the door shut behind her and leaning heavily against it.
Her chest heaved, her breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. Her
hands trembled uncontrollably, clutching the doorknob as though it
might anchor her to the ground.
She slid down slowly until she was sitting on the floor, her back
pressed against the solid wood of the door. Disbelief coursed through
her veins, cold and unrelenting, but it was soon overtaken by
something darker: fear.
For nineteen years, this house had been her sanctuary. Every inch of
it, from the grand halls to the quiet corners, held pieces of her soul.
This was the only life she had ever known. She had been
homeschooled here, with tutors guiding her through lessons in the
same rooms where her stepfather had taught her to embrace the
world despite her silence.
The house had been her refuge, its walls shielding her from a world
she had never truly learned to navigate. She had no friends beyond
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the horses she rode each morning, their strong, steady presence a
source of comfort. Her days had been spent nestled in the study,
curled up with books that transported her far beyond the manor’s
grounds. In the evenings, she had walked the gardens and vast estate, finding peace in the rustling trees and the endless skies above.
But now, the sanctuary she had known was slipping away. It wasn’t hers anymore–not the house, not the grounds, not even the memories that clung to the air like shadows of a life she could no
longer hold on to.
She buried her face in her hands, her body shaking as the reality
crashed over her. I have to leave.
The words echoed in her mind like a judge’s sentence, cold and final. The thought of packing her belongings, of stepping out into a world she wasn’t prepared for, made her stomach churn. She had no idea how to survive outside these walls. She had no training, no job, no experience. Where would she go? What would she do?
Tears stung her eyes as she stumbled to her bed, collapsing onto it as though her legs could no longer bear her weight. She pressed her face into the familiar softness of her pillow, inhaling the faint scent of lavender that her mother had always loved. But even that small comfort couldn’t quiet the storm raging within her.
Her thoughts spun wildly, her mind racing through possibilities that
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felt like lifelines fraying before she could grasp them. She had a trust
fund left to her by Robert–enough to keep her afloat for a while,
perhaps long enough to figure out how to stand on her own.
I’ll leave before Graham asks me to, she resolved, the decision as
sharp and painful as a knife to her chest.
The idea of staying, of waiting for the moment Graham would sit her down and tell her she no longer belonged, was unbearable. She couldn’t endure the humiliation of being treated like a burden, of being offered money to go quietly. It wasn’t just the prospect of leaving that hurt–it was the realization that she had lost everything.
Her sanctuary. Her family. Her place in this world.
But even in her heartbreak, one thing remained intact: her pride.
If she left now, she could preserve what little dignity she had left. Isla would not wait to be cast aside. She would leave on her terms, even if it meant stepping into a world that terrified her.
As the hours of the night stretched on, Isla sat curled on the wide windowsill of her bedroom, staring into the darkness of the sky. The stars were faint tonight, scattered like distant memories, and the moon hung low, veiled by clouds. She hugged her knees to her chest, her mind spiraling between the comfort of the past and the gnawing
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uncertainty of the future. Every creak of the house, every whisper of
the wind through the trees outside, felt like a piece of her life bidding
her goodbye.
The clock struck one, its soft chime carrying through the stillness of the manor. Isla took a deep, trembling breath and pushed herself off
the windowsill. Her legs felt weak, as though they might betray her
resolve, but she forced herself to move. Crossing the room, she knelt
in front of her cupboard and pulled out a small, worn suitcase. The
faded corners and scratched surface bore witness to years of neglect,
a relic of journeys never taken. Tonight, however, it would carry her
away from everything she had ever known.
