Chapter 8: Standing Alone
Amy stood in the middle of the foyer, her pulse racing. For a fleeting second, the old terror returned—the fear of being exposed, judged, and thrown back into the poverty she had fought so hard to escape.
She thought of Eleanor’s cruel smiles, of the guests laughing at her in the dining room, and of Mark’s relentless greed.
Then, she thought of LeoSleeping peacefully upstairs. She thought of Julian holding her hand, telling her that she was his home.
Something inside Amy shifted. The timid girl who had let people step on her for years suddenly died, replaced by a mother and a wife who had something worth fighting for.
""Get out,"" Amy said, her voice dropping to a calm, steady register that surprised even herself.
Mark blinked, taken aback. ""What?""
""I said, get out of my house,"" Amy repeated, taking a step toward him, her head held high. ""If you think you can threaten me with my past, you're wrong. I never lied to Julian. He knows where I came from. He knows I worked three jobs. He knows about Dad, and he knows about you.""
Mark’s face twisted in frustration. ""You think he won't care when it's plastered all over the news?""
""Go ahead,"" Amy said coldly, pulling out her phone. ""Tell Eleanor whatever you want. But if you don't leave this property in ten seconds, I am calling security and reporting you for trespassing and extortion.""
Mark stared at her, searching her face for any sign of panic, but found only cold, unyielding resolve. Realizing his leverage was worthless, he spat on the floor in disgust.
May you like
""You're a fake, Amy,"" Mark hissed, backing out the front door into the rain. ""You'll always be trash to these people!""
Amy slammed the heavy oak door shut and locked it. She leaned her back against the wood, taking deep, shuddering breaths. Her hands were shaking, but as she looked at her reflection in the hallway mirror, she saw a woman who had finally stood up for herself.
