Carie stopped.

Brandee stands at the foot of the stairs like a drip-mouth beast in Chanel. She handed her mink coat to a maid and did not take her eyes off Carie for a moment.

Her gaze swept over the suitcase in Carie's hand, the corners of her mouth curled upwards.

"Where are you going?" She dragged her voice out and said, "Or is this another tantrum you're seeking attention?" ”

Carie didn't answer.

She held the handle of her suitcase tighter and began to walk down the stairs.

As she reached the last step, Brandy stood sideways, blocking Kali's path. She raised a manicured hand.

"Put the bag down, Carie."

"Please let me go." Carie said, trying to get around her.

She moved again, blocking her with her body. I said, put it down. The chef is off tonight. Athena needs her bone broth. Organic, grass-fed. You know the recipe. ”

Carie stared at her. "You want me to make soup?"

"This is the least you can do." Brandy said sharply, "Since you obviously can't provide an heir for this family, you can at least serve a woman who is recovering." ”

Carie looked up and looked upstairs.

Her husband, Erik, was standing at the top of the stairs, watching.

He had one hand in his pocket and even a glass of whiskey in the other.

Nausea.

Carie loosened the handle of the suitcase. The suitcase "banged" and fell on the steps.

"Okay." She said. A strange calm enveloped her. It was the calm of a hurricane's eye.

Brandi smiled sarcastically. "Good girl. Don't take too long. ”

She turned around and walked proudly to the restaurant.

Carie walks into the kitchen. It was a chef's kitchen with sparkling stainless steel and copper utensils.

On the cooking table, the ingredients are already laid out.

Expensive beef bones, organic vegetables. Heavy Le Creuset enamel pot.

She turned on the gas stove. She turned the flame up to the maximum.

She fills the pot with water. She didn't put the bones.

She just let the water heat up.

She watched the bubbles form. First small, then big, tumbling, boiling violently. Steam began to rise, blurring the windows.

In the restaurant, she heard Brandy's voice. "She's so ungrateful, Eric. After we did so much for her. ”

Carie put on insulated gloves.

The water is now boiling and tumbling, enough to cause a person to die a painful death.

She picked up the pot. Even through gloves, the pan is still heavy and hot.

She walked out of the kitchen.

Brandi sits in the main seat of a long mahogany dining table. Eric leaned against the sideboard, shaking the drink in his glass.

When she came in, they all looked up.

"It's finally here." Brandy said. Then she frowned. "That's not a soup bowl, Carie. Do you know nothing about table setting? ”

Carie walked straight to the table. She didn't stop.

She looked at Brandy. She looked at Eric.

"This is your soup." She said.

She raised the pot high and slammed it into the dining table.

Wow.

The voice was deafening. The heavy enamel pot smashed the delicate porcelain ornaments. Boiling water gushes out like a geyser.

The steam billowed out, scorching and white.

"Ah!" Brandy screamed, hot water splashed on the hem of her silk dress, and she jumped away. She hurriedly stepped away from the table and stumbled over her chair.

The whiskey glass in Eric's hand fell. The cup shattered on the ground. He protected his face when the steam hit his face.

"Are you crazy?" He roared, his eyes widening.

Carie slammed off the insulated gloves on her hands and threw them into a puddle of boiling water and broken porcelain pieces.

"You want to serve?" She screamed, her voice hoarse, "I have served you for two years!" I have you treat me like servants in my own house! ”

Her trembling fingers pointed at Brandy.

"You starve me! You forced me to drink those disgusting herbal mixtures until I spit it out, and told me that I was 'too acidic' to give birth to a boy! ”

The maids in the corridor huddled together in fright.

"You're a waste!" Brandi screamed, covering his chest, "Street garbage!" You don't belong here! ”

"You're right." Carie laughed, and that laughter sounded hysterical, "I don't belong to this incestuous, sick little kingdom you have built. ”

"Incest?" Eric's face turned purple. He pounced on her. "Shut up!"

He reached for her arm.

Carie is faster.

She grabbed the half bottle of whiskey from the sideboard.

She uncorked the bottle and splashed the amber liquid directly on his face.

"Cough!" Eric choked, and the alcohol stung his eye. He staggered back, scratching his face.

She didn't wait.

She turned around sharply and strode towards the stairs. She grabbed her suitcase.

She walked to the heavy oak gate.

She grabbed the doorknob with both hands and pulled it open suddenly.

The cold wind howls and rushes into the warm foyer, with snow and ice.

"Carie!" Brandy screamed behind her.

A blizzard bursts into the grand foyer, wrapping around her ankles and freezing the sweat from Carie's skin.

She stood at the door and looked back at them indifferently.

"If you walk out that door," screamed Brandi, supported by a maid, "I'll have the lawyer freeze all your credit cards before you get in the car!" ”

Carie slowly turned around.

She held the doorknob so hard that her fingers hurt.

Eric wiped the whiskey from his eyes and blinked quickly.

His face was red and swollen, and his eyes were full of anger and unwillingness.

"You're a madman," he spat out. "Completely out of control."

"Really?" Carie asked. Her voice was unusually calm in the howling wind. "Or am I the only one who can see the essence of this family?"

She looked at Brandi. "Do you think I can't have children because of my genes? Because I'm 'out of stock'? ”

"Look at you," Brandi sneered. "Desolate. It didn't work. ”

"I got pregnant two years ago," Carie said. The phrase hung heavy and sharp in the air.

"We know about miscarriages," Eric snapped, stepping forward. "It was an accident. The road surface is icy. Don't live in the past. ”

"It's not an accident," Carie said, her eyes locking on him. "Athena drove behind me."

Eric froze. "What?"

"She stopped at the intersection," Carie raised her voice. She waited. I saw her in the rearview mirror. She waited until I was in the middle of the corner and then picked up. She bumped into me, Eric. She pushed me against the guardrail. ”

"That's a lie!" Eric roared. "Athena has PTSD! She can hardly get in the car, let alone drive hard! She was in shock! ”

"She's a murderer," Carie said. "She killed your first child. She's been laughing at you ever since. ”

"You're such a vicious and jealous woman," Brandi growled in a low voice. "Slander a grieving widow. You should be ashamed. ”

"I saw her eyes," Carie whispered, more to herself. She didn't look shocked. She looked satisfied. ”

"Get out," Eric said. His voice was low, trembling with anger. "Get out of my house, or I'll kick you out."

He believed her. Of course it will. Athena, the fragile bird with broken wings. Carie is just a vulture circling a corpse.

"Would be happy to," Carie said.

She reached for her neck.

Diamond necklace. The Flynn family heirloom. A collar.

She hooked her fingers under the platinum chain. No clasps. It's a constant cycle.

She pulled suddenly.

Metal pierces her skin. She felt a sharp pain as the chain slashed into the back of her neck.

Snap.

The chain is broken. Warm blood runs down the neck and mixes with cold sweat.

She clenched the sparkling diamonds for a moment, feeling their sharp edges.

Then she threw it.

The thing hit Eric in the chest and fell at his feet with a snap.

"Keep the money," Carie said. "I want to take my name back."

Eric looked down at the diamond, then at the blood on her neck. His expression faltered for a moment. A hint of regret? Care?

But then Brandi moans, covering his heart, and he turns to her.

"Are you okay?"

Carie ignored them anymore. She backed away and walked into the snow.

Then like a lion, he slammed the door shut.

Bang!

The voice echoed like a tombstone seal.

She was alone.

The wind tore her clothes. The snow made her unable to open her eyes. She dragged her suitcase along the long winding lane. Within seconds, her hands were numb.

She arrived at the main road. There are no streetlights here, just the endless darkness of the Hampton winter.

She pulled out her phone. Her fingers were stiff and bluish.

She called Katie's number.

"Carie?" Katie's voice was loud, with panic. "Where are you? I've been fighting for an hour! ”

"I was completely relieved," Carie said. Her teeth trembled so much that she could barely speak. "I'll come over right away."

"I'm still sending you off, I'm waiting for you."

Carie hung up.

She stood under the lonely street lamp at the end of the road, watching the snowflakes fall. It obscures her tracks, erases the path to the house.

She took a deep breath. The air is cold, but it tastes like freedom.

The headlights of the matte black Mercedes G-Wagon, which had been parked discreetly down the snow-covered road, flashed once. The engine growled to life, and the SUV surged forward, crunching over the ice to skid to a halt inches from Carie's knees.

The driver's door flew open. Katy Cash jumped out. She was wearing a leather biker jacket over a silk pajama set, and combat boots.

"Jesus Christ, Carie!"

She saw the blood on Carie's neck first. Her eyes went wide.

"Did he hit you? I swear to God, I will burn that house down with them inside."

"No," Carie said, her voice shaking. "I did it to myself. Just... get me out of here."

Katy didn't ask questions. She grabbed Carie's suitcase and heaved it into the back. She practically carried Carie into the passenger seat.

She blasted the heat. "Here." She threw her cashmere coat over Carie. It smelled like her expensive perfume and cigarettes.

She slammed the car into gear and peeled out, tires spinning on the ice before gripping the asphalt.

Carie watched the side mirror. The Flynn estate disappeared into the white void.

"I grabbed some stuff from your old apartment last week," Katy said, glancing at Carie. "Before Erik changed the locks. It's in the center console."

Carie opened the console.

There was a thick, leather-bound book. Their Wedding.

She opened it. A photo of Erik and Carie cutting the cake. He was smiling at her with that charming, crooked grin that had fooled her so completely.

She felt sick.

She rolled down the window. The cold air rushed in, deafeningly loud.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her windproof Zippo lighter.

"What are you doing?" Katy yelled over the wind.

Carie flicked the lighter. The blue flame danced.

She held it to the corner of the photo album. The paper caught instantly.

She watched the flames lick across Erik's face, turning his smile into black ash.

She held it until the heat singed her fingertips. Then she let go.

The burning book tumbled out onto the snowy highway, a streak of fire in the night.

"Nice," Katy shouted. She floored the gas.

An hour later, they pulled into the underground garage of the Four Seasons in Midtown.

Katy flashed a black Amex card at the front desk. "Presidential Suite. Indefinite stay. No names on the registry."

The room was massive, warm, and safe.

Katy pushed Carie onto the velvet sofa and shoved a mug of hot tea into her hands.

"Okay," she said, sitting on the coffee table in front of Carie. "What's the plan? We sue? We go to the press?"

Carie took a sip of the tea. The warmth spread through her chest, chasing away the chill.

"Laptop," she said.

Katy blinked. "What?"

"Give me your MacBook."

She handed it to Carie.

Carie opened a secure messaging app. "Brice," she typed. "I need you to retrieve some footage. Two years ago. January 14th. 5th and Main intersection. NYC DOT archives. The one I left you access to."

A few moments later, a reply came. "Understood, Mademoiselle. Sending to your secure server now."

Carie opened a terminal window, watching as the encrypted data streamed in. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, decrypting the file.

"What are you doing?" Katy leaned in, watching the lines of code scroll down the screen. "I thought you barely knew how to use Excel."

"I lied," Carie said.

The video file popped up.

"Is that..." Katy gasped.

"The accident," Carie said.

She played it frame by frame.

There was her car, turning left.

And there was the white Range Rover behind her. Athena's car.

It was stopped. Brake lights on.

One second. Two seconds. Ten seconds.

She was waiting. Watching.

Then, the brake lights went off. The front of the car dipped as she slammed on the gas.

Impact.

Carie's car spun into the guardrail.

"Holy shit," Katy whispered. "That wasn't an accident. That was a hit."

"She wanted to kill the baby," Carie said. Her voice was devoid of emotion. "And she succeeded."

"We take this to the FBI," Katy said, reaching for her phone. "Right now."

Carie closed the laptop. "No."

"Carie! She tried to kill you!"

"If we go to the police, the Christian family lawyers will bury it. They'll say the video is inconclusive, or corrupted. Athena will plead insanity. She'll go to a luxury rehab for six months and come out a victim."

Carie looked out the floor-to-ceiling window at the Manhattan skyline.

"I don't want her in rehab," she said. "I want her destroyed. I want her to lose everything she thinks makes her valuable. Her reputation. Her money. Her name."

She pulled up a document template.

Separation Agreement.

She filled in the details.

"I'm initiating the separation," she said. "Tonight."

Katy looked at Carie. Really looked at her.

"Who are you?" she asked softly.

Carie turned to her. Her eyes were dry.

"I'm the one who's going to burn them all down."