MIRIAM
(PAST)
The Valecrest Estate stood out - it was a glass-and-stone mansion on a hill. The sun was setting in the sky when Miriam's daughter came running to the family's living room. She sat down next to her mother then Lucien came into the room with his mother standing behind him - a sign of being pampered.
"We need to talk," Lucien said, walking to the dining room, Miriam said walking behind the two.
When she got into the room, a brown file was thrown on the glass table, "you need to move out soon," he proceeded to say, sensitising the need to say she would only stay if she bore a heir.
Their daughter was standing outside the room - eavesdropping, knowing that the weak position of her mom's family made her get kicked out.
They spoke about Lucien as if he were weather.
Unpredictable. Uncontrollable. Something women adjusted around.
Miriam stood in the dining room while the explanations unfolded—calm voices, careful language, concern that never quite reached her.
"He's under pressure," Lucien's mother said, folding her hands. "You know how he is."
Another voice followed. "A man needs stability at home."
Miriam understood the translation.
You failed to contain him.
Lucien didn't look at her. He didn't need to. The decision had already been made elsewhere.
The folder slid across the table.
Land.
A villa.
Enough money to disappear quietly.
"For peace," his mother said. "For the child."
Miriam opened the file. Closed it.
They mistook her silence for relief.
They didn't ask if she wanted to go. They assumed leaving was kindness—that removal was resolution.
"I'll pack tonight," Miriam said.
Lucien exhaled, satisfied. Order restored.
As she turned away, Miriam realized something with unsettling clarity:
Lucien would never be blamed for what he did.
Only women would be blamed for not stopping him.
"Mom, I'll pack my things, " the daughter exclaimed running up the stairs, rejoicing.
She seemed more than glad to move out of the family house. She also said something like packing the luggage for the mother.
In the evening, their suitcases were already in her Mercedes-maybach GLS , the only thing awaiting was the break of dawn, the break of a new begining for Miriam.
The Mercedes-maybach GLS car rolled out of the Valecrest's parking lot headed to their new villa, a beautiful but isolated house in a large park.
She looked at her smartphone, waiting to see a text from anyone but it was the same, often unanswered. She finally smiled as she drove off, her gentle face and tired eyes finally becoming better.
In the Valecrest family, disappearance was not punishment.
It was how women stayed alive.