Chapter 2

After leaving the house, I took a cab straight to a five-star hotel downtown.

The stock certificates were my ultimate safety net.

In 1992, during my first year of being laid off, Arthur and I had a massive fight. Out of spite or maybe pure instinct, I took the gold bracelet my mother left me, pawned it, and bought these shares.

At the time, my friends said I was crazy, throwing my money down a drain.

I didn't take it seriously either. I threw them at the bottom of a chest for thirty years and almost forgot about them.

But this morning, I went to the brokerage firm to check if some old mutual funds had matured.

The young clerk saw me filling out the form and asked if I had any other old financial assets.

I casually mentioned, "I have a stack of 1992 stock certificates. I don't know if they're still worth anything."

The moment she took them, her eyes went wide.

I never expected that a whim from thirty years ago would become my ultimate escape route.

I slept in until 8 PM. My phone screen was lighting up constantly.

When I finally picked up, Leo's furious voice screamed through the receiver.

"Mom! Do you have any idea Tommy was waiting at the preschool for an hour?! The teacher called Chloe’s boss, and Chloe got chewed out!"

I fired back immediately, "I told you. Pick up your own kid. Cook your own food."

Arthur snatched the phone, his voice deafening.

"You think you're tough now, huh? Fine! You don't want to cook? We're going to Vivian’s new luxury condo for a feast right now! “

“She’s been simmering chicken soup for us. You can starve out there on the streets, you grease-stained old hag!"

He slammed the phone down.

I stared at the screen, feeling nothing but disgust.

I had wasted half my life with this man, and now he was finally showing his true, ugly colors.

I opened Snapchat. Sure enough, Chloe had just posted a new story.

It was a grid of photos, all carefully posed shots of high-end takeout containers.

Right in the center, Vivian wore a silk nightgown, holding a bowl of bird's nest soup, smiling gracefully.

The caption read: [Vivian has such classy taste. An elegant woman who doesn't smell like grease is the best. Unlike some people who are bitter, cheap, and smell like a fast-food kitchen.]

Leo liked it instantly and commented: [Real family sticks together.]

I tapped the comment box and typed out a reply:

[The takeout delivery stickers are still on the plastic containers. Arthur sure is generous, spending $500 to feed the whole family out of plastic boxes. So 'elegant.']

After posting, I immediately left the Snapchat family group and blocked every single one of them.

I put my phone down, called room service, and ordered a beef Wellington and a glass of red wine. I finished every last bite.

Starting today, I was going to pamper myself ten times, a hundred times over, for everything I had missed.