Chapter 2

I spun around, stormed into the bedroom, and locked the door behind me.

Out of sight, out of mind. That was the whole point.

I took out my phone and blocked Lee's number and his messages, all of it.

Then I thought about it a moment. Afraid he'd send my parents to talk me around, I blocked their contacts too, for now.

In that moment, I felt like I was the coolest person alive.

Finally free of this suffocating house, free of this control-freak of a man.

Early the next morning I packed my bags and flew to Miami.

The Miami sun was strong, the sea breeze soft and easy.

Rudolph and I stayed at a five-star hotel in South Beach.

We booked two rooms, but during the day we were practically inseparable.

We screamed our heads off at Universal Studios, swam in the infinity pool, ate a pork rib stew.

Rudolph was good with a camera. Every shot he took of me looked gorgeous.

I posted the photos to my social media feed with the caption:

"Out of the cage, into freedom. This is what life is supposed to look like."

I'd hidden the posts from Lee, and from every relative in the family.

The only person I forgot to block was the friend Rudolph and I had in common: my cousin.

But I didn't care. I was lost in that make-believe happiness.

While I was clinking glasses in a foreign country, I had no idea everything back home had already been turned upside down.

The seventh night after I left.

My father was at home watching TV when he suddenly clutched his chest and pitched forward onto the couch.

My mother was terrified, her hands shaking so badly she could barely dial 911.

She finally got through and got my father to the hospital.

The doctors said it was a massive acute heart attack. His condition was critical.

He needed surgery immediately, and it required an immediate family member's signature.

My mother called me, crying. Once, twice, ten times.

Every time: "Sorry, the number you have dialed cannot be reached."

She messaged me, and got nothing but red exclamation marks.

My mother lost all hope. She sank to the floor in the hospital hallway, sobbing.

The nurse kept pushing for the signature, and she came apart completely.

With no other choice, she called Lee, her hands trembling.

At that moment, Lee was in the next city over, hundreds of miles away, closing a deal.

It was a major contract he'd chased for half a year. Sign it, and this year's bonus was guaranteed.

But the moment he took that call, Lee didn't say a word. He bolted out of the conference room without signing the contract, without so much as an explanation to the client.

He drove four hours flat out on the highway through a night of pouring rain, and made it back to the hospital in the city.

By then my father had already been moved into the intensive care ICU.

The daily costs ran like water. Lee maxed out three credit cards, then swallowed his pride and borrowed two hundred thousand from a friend to cover the surgery and the hospital bills.

He kept vigil outside the ICU for five days and five nights straight.

Comforting my collapsing mother with one hand, dealing with the relatives who came to visit with the other.

The relatives asked, "Where's Mabel? Her own father's dying, and where's his daughter?"

All Lee could do, eyes rimmed red, was cover for me: "She's overseas on business, cut off from contact. Can't be reached."