Chapter 6 - The Inheritance of Ashes
The sun was setting over the sprawling Vance estate, painting the horizon in bruised shades of purple, orange, and deep crimson.
I stood on the second-floor balcony of the grand manor, holding a cup of warm tea, looking down at the freshly smoothed patch of earth near the edge of the private forest where they had tried to end my life just days ago.
The estate was quiet now. The domestic staff had been dismissed or rehired under new management. Richard and Eleanor were sitting in maximum-security county lockup awaiting trial without the possibility of bail. Chloe had fled the state the moment her parents were arrested, only to be picked up by federal marshals at a private airstrip in Vermont early this morning.
Footsteps approached softly behind me.
I didn't turn around. I didn't need to. I knew the cadence of those footsteps better than my own.
"They're moving Mother's personal belongings out of the east wing," Julian said quietly, stopping a few feet away. He didn't dare step closer without permission. He looked like a ghost of the man I had married—broken, humbled, and utterly lost.
"Good," I replied evenly, sipping my tea. "Tell the movers to pack everything into standard storage boxes. I don't want any trace of her in this house by tomorrow morning."
Julian nodded slowly, leaning against the wrought-iron railing beside me. "The divorce papers... my lawyers sent them over this afternoon. I signed them, Maya. No contest. Every asset, every property, every account—it's all yours."
"I know," I said, turning my head to look at him at last. "Because if you hadn't signed them, the federal prosecutors would have made sure you spent the next thirty years sharing a cell with your father."
Julian winced, though he didn't argue. He looked down at the lawn, his voice dropping to a harsh, ragged whisper. "I'm sorry, Maya. I know saying that doesn't mean anything. I know what I did... what I allowed them to do... is unforgivable."
"It is unforgivable, Julian," I said, my voice entirely devoid of anger, which somehow hurt him far more than shouting ever could. "You stood there while your mother threw dirt in my face. You watched your father steal my phone while I was bleeding. You chose your family's vanity over your wife and your unborn child."
"I was weak," he choked out, a tear finally spilling over his eyelashes. "I was terrified of losing my inheritance, of being nothing without my parents' approval."
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"And now you have nothing," I replied softly. "Except the freedom to figure out who you are without a silver spoon in your mouth. Use it wisely, Julian. Because this is the last time we will ever speak outside of a courtroom."
He bowed his head, swallowed the lump in his throat, and turned away, walking silently back into the dark interior of the mansion, leaving me alone with the evening breeze.
