Chapter 17 - The Epilogue of the PastTwo weeks after the sentencing, a final piece of mail arrived at my private residence. It wasn't a court summons or a legal brief.
It was a small, cream-colored envelope containing a brief, handwritten note from Claire.
“Elena,
I know you won’t read this, and I know I have no right to ask for anything. Our parents’ house has been foreclosed on, their accounts are permanently frozen, and the high-society friends we spent our whole lives trying to impress won’t even return our phone calls. You won everything. I hope you’re happy.
— Claire.”
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I walked over to the shredder in my study, dropped the note into the slot, and watched it turn into harmless paper strips.
There was no sense of vindictive triumph left in my chest. Revenge is a temporary fire; sovereignty is a permanent light. Claire still viewed life as a social competition where someone had to win and someone had to lose. She still didn't understand that my goal had never been to beat her—it had been to free myself.
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