Chapter 10 - THE SOVEREIGN CHOICE
A soft, hesitant creak sounded from the nursery doorway.
Sarah turned her head.
Rebecca was standing in the doorframe, her trench coat still pulled tight around her pajamas, her hands tucked deep into her pockets. She looked at the empty crib, at the pink curtains, at the phone vibrating silently face-down on the nightstand, and finally at Sarah’s bare left hand.
Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat. The anger in her eyes dissolved, replaced by a profound, reverent awe as she realized what she was witnessing.
“He’s calling non-stop,” Rebecca said softly, nodding toward the nightstand. “My phone just buzzed twice with texts from him. He’s asking what room she’s in. He said he’s trying to book a charter flight out of Naples.”
Sarah looked at the buzzing device.
The vibration finally stopped. Three seconds later, the screen lit up with a notification that illuminated the white paint of the table: Missed Call: David (3).
“Let him charter whatever he wants,” Sarah said.
Her voice was sweet, calm, and filled with a luminous, terrifying freedom. It was the sound of a woman who had walked out of a burning house and had no intention of looking back at the ashes.
“What are you going to do, Sarah?” Rebecca asked, her voice hushed, stepping into the room.
Sarah turned away from the nightstand.
She walked over to the closet, opened the double doors, and pulled out Lily’s small purple wheeling suitcase—the one decorated with glittery stars that they had bought for their trip to Maine last summer. She set it on the bed and opened the zipper.
She walked to the dresser and gathered three sets of clothes: Lily’s favorite soft cotton leggings, two warm sweaters, and a pair of clean white socks. She walked to the bed, picked up the plush rabbit named Barnaby, and gently laid him in the suitcase between the folds of wool.
Sarah looked toward the empty bed, where the sunlight was pooling like melted gold across the pink quilt.
“I’m going to go back to St. Jude’s,” Sarah said, her voice rich with an unshakeable, sovereign authority. “I’m going to sit beside my daughter’s bed, and when she wakes up, I’m going to hold her hand.”
She zipped the small suitcase shut with a crisp, definitive sound.
“And when the doctors discharge her tomorrow morning,” Sarah continued, looking directly into her sister’s eyes, “we are going to your house. I’m calling Arthur Vance’s estate attorneys at noon. By the time David lands at Westchester Airport, the locks on this house will be changed, his personal accounts will be frozen by emergency court order, and my petition for sole legal custody will be sitting on the county clerk’s desk.”
Rebecca let out a slow, disbelieving breath, a fierce, triumphant smile breaking across her face. “You’re stripping him of everything.”
“I’m not stripping him of anything,” Sarah replied quietly, lifting the small purple suitcase by the handle. “He stripped himself the second he hit decline.”
Sarah walked to the doorway, her head held high, the soft pink cardigan draping comfortably over her shoulders. She paused at the threshold, taking one last look at the nursery—at the silver frame, the diamond ring glinting cold in the light, and the silent, unheeded phone.
May you like
“He made his choice,” Sarah whispered into the quiet room. “Now, I make mine.”
She stepped through the doorway, her footsteps firm and resolute against the floorboards, leaving the cold museum behind as she walked down the stairs and out into the warm, blinding sunlight of a new morning.
