Chapter 3

Chloe's face flushed crimson. "You... What kind of bullshit are you talking about?!"

Brandon exploded, his face twisting into an ugly, furious snarl as he roared at me:

"You're my mom! Taking care of my kid and doing chores is your damn duty! You actually want money? Have you lost your damn mind?!

"Let me tell you right now—if you walk out that door today, don't you ever dare come back!

"I will act like you don't exist!

"When you drop dead in some ditch, don't expect me to bury your rotting corpse!"

Hearing those vile, venomous words pour from the mouth of the son I raised with my own flesh and blood...

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced out a single word: "Good."

Gripping my suitcase, I walked out the door without looking back.

Chloe tried to rush after me, but Brandon grabbed her arm.

"Let her leave!"

He screamed at my retreating back, "Let's see where she can actually go! No money, nowhere to live—in less than three days, she'll come crawling back on her knees begging us!

"And when she does, I'm going to make her beg on the floor!"

...

I called an Uber and headed straight across town to the East District.

The car pulled up in front of a sleek, cream-colored luxury high-rise.

It was an upscale serviced apartment complex I had seen advertised in the local magazine.

A one-bedroom suite cost two thousand dollars a month, fully inclusive of daily housekeeping, laundry, and breakfast.

After checking in, the concierge smiled warmly and handed over my keycard:

"Ms. Clark, your suite is on the 28th floor. Please contact the front desk if you need anything at all."

The elevator glided up smoothly.

In the polished brass mirror, the woman looking back had gray hair and tired eyes, but her spine was straight as a rod.

For the first time in five years, I had walked out into the world and booked a place entirely for myself.

Setting down my bag, I pulled open the sheer curtains and looked out.

Below stretched a serene canopy of lush green oaks, peaceful and quiet.

In this private sanctuary, no one would ever scream at me for flushing the toilet.

Here, water flowed freely. The AC could be set to a crisp 68 degrees. If I coughed at night, I didn't have to choke it down.

My entire body finally unclenched.

Then Brandon's text blew up my phone.

[Mom! Where the hell did you run off to?! Chloe said you took all your junk! Who gave you money to stay anywhere?!]

I ignored him, pulled up my lawyer's contact info, and texted:

"Please set up a tour for me tomorrow at 10:00 AM at Summit Crest Estates."

At 10:00 AM the next morning, my lawyer and a high-end realtor were already waiting for me at the gated entrance of Summit Crest.

We rode a quiet golf cart up the winding hillside road, flanked by manicured lawns and private, secluded estates.

"Ms. Clark, this villa is move-in ready," the realtor explained as we walked through the double doors. "The previous owner relocated abroad and needs a fast closing. Clean title, fully furnished with designer pieces, and equipped with a smart home system.

"The asking price is 3.5 million. If you can make a decision today, I can negotiate fifty thousand off."

I stood in the center of the vast living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the panoramic skyline of the entire city.

Sunlight poured in, casting a warm golden glow across the hardwood floors.

No moldy smells from a dark closet. No endless, soul-crushing chores...

"I'll take it."

Two hours later, the earnest deposit was wired, and the remaining balance was fully guaranteed through the German trust account.

The realtor placed a polished brass key into my palm and gave a respectful nod:

"Congratulations, Ms. Clark. This is officially your home.

"Since the seller is overseas, the closing paperwork will be completed digitally. To ensure an easy move, property handover is authorized starting today."

I wrapped my fingers around the cool key, a sudden flame of vitality reigniting in my chest.

After finishing the paperwork for the villa, I returned to the apartment accompanied by my attorney, Mr. Evans.

Mr. Evans handed me a file. "The City Charitable Foundation heard about your intent to donate and reached out to us directly."

I sat by the window, gazing down at the quiet oak trees below.

"Jay left me this fortune so I could live out my days in peace and comfort," I said softly.

"But after everything I've been through, I've realized something: people my age become utterly defenseless when they grow old.

"I want to donate three million dollars to build an assisted-living senior community network. Priority goes to seniors living alone and those whose children have abandoned them."