I put on my makeup carefully. I chose the silk dress I’d bought. I looked at the expensive gift—a hand-crafted piece of calligraphy by a renowned artist, framed in carved wood. It had taken three months to commission.
Then I tried calling Raphael to ask what time he’d pick me up.
No answer.
I sent a text. “Sweetheart, what time are you coming to get me? Should I drive myself?”
The message showed delivered, but he didn’t read it.
Maybe he’s busy with last-minute preparations, I told myself.
I tried calling Lissa’s parents to see if they needed any help.
The call was declined immediately.
I tried again. This time it went straight to voicemail.
Blocked.
My chest tightened. Why would they block my number?
I sat at my vanity, staring at my reflection. The makeup couldn’t hide the exhaustion in my eyes. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
I called Raphael again.
Straight to voicemail.
I looked at myself in the mirror—a successful businesswoman who had reduced herself to begging for scraps of attention from people who would never value her.
I had funded their entire lifestyle. I had paid for the house they’d be celebrating in tonight. And they wouldn’t even answer my calls.
The conversation I’d overheard the night before echoed in my head.
“You know what to do after the party.”
Was this part of it? Cutting me off completely once they had everything they needed?
I took a deep breath and opened my phone. With trembling fingers, I typed out a message.
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