Chapter 5 - The Aftermath of Fire
Two weeks later, the mansion was sold. The luxury cars were gone. My parents were living in a small, rented apartment on the outskirts of the city, their reputations in tatters, their social circle having evaporated the moment the scandals hit the news.
I stood in the garage of my new property—a sprawling facility in the suburbs. I was watching Leo. He was wearing a brand-new jumpsuit, his hands covered in oil as he worked on an engine. He looked happy—happier than I had ever seen him.
I walked over, the cane clicking on the concrete. "How’s it running?"
He looked up, a huge grin spreading across his face. "Like a dream, Viv. I still can't believe you bought this place. And the tools... I still don't know how you got them back from that pawn shop, but you’re a genius."
I leaned against the workbench, watching him. "It pays to be prepared, Leo."
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from Marcus. Your father has been indicted. The trial starts in October. He won't be coming out for a long time.
I tucked the phone away. Outside, the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the garage. My leg still ached, and I knew the scar would be there for the rest of my life, a map of where I had been.
But for the first time, I didn't feel like a victim. I felt like the architect of my own fate.
"Hey, Viv?" Leo asked, wiping his hands on a rag. "Mom called today. She asked if we could visit. She said she’s sorry."
I looked at my brother, the only person who had truly loved me, the one who had sacrificed his dreams for my survival.
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"Tell her," I said, turning back toward the sunlight, "that I’m busy. Tell her I’m still 'being dramatic'."
I walked out of the garage, the sound of the engine purring behind me—the sound of a life that was finally, truly my own.
