Averie didn't wait.
She didn't pace. Didn't hold the letter to her chest like in the movies.
She tore it open the second she got in the car - hands shaking, eyes burning, heart racing like she already knew what it would say.
Averie,
I don't know how to do this right. There's no version of this that doesn't feel like
I'm failing you.
They came to me. Your father's people. Said they had everything - photos, videos,
messages. Said they'd bury you in shame unless I left.
I wanted to fight. God, I wanted to. But if I stayed, I'd be putting a target on
your back. And I couldn't do that.
This isn't goodbye. I swear. I'm going to build something. Become someone your
world can't crush so easily.
And when I come back, I'm not asking permission. I'm taking you with me.
Wait for me - if you still want me.
- W
She read it twice. Three times. Let each word tear into her.
He didn't leave because he wanted to.
He left to protect her.
Her fists balled in her lap as the first tears slid hot and silent down her cheeks.
And then - rage.
Not at him.
At them.
Her father. His people. Everyone who thought they could control the story. Silence the
truth. Ruin a boy who'd only ever touched her like she mattered.
She pulled out her phone. Opened the article again. Stared at the photo.
And for the first time - she didn't feel ashamed.
She looked powerful. Loved. Alive.
They'd used the photo to humiliate her.
She was going to use it to burn their world down.
By the time she pulled into her driveway, the sun was gone. The Langford estate glowed like a false sanctuary - cold light through expensive windows.
She walked inside like she belonged in armor, not pearls.
Her mother sat in the sitting room, wine glass in hand, posture perfect.
"Averie," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, "you need to be seen tomorrow in something tasteful. We're hosting donors."
"I'm not showing up to sell a lie," Averie replied, standing tall.
Her mother blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." Averie said bluntly
Her mother stood now, setting the glass down too hard. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but this rebellion ends now."
Averie took a step closer. "Then maybe you can tell me what happened to Grandma."
The room went still.
Her mother's lips parted, then closed again. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"I think I do," Averie said. "I think she fell in love with someone she wasn't supposed to. I think your father-in-law covered it up, and I think we've all been told half a story."
Her mother turned her back. "Let it go, Averie. It's better that way."
"Maybe for you," she said. "But I'm done playing the obedient daughter. If you won't give me the truth, I'll find it myself."
Her mother didn't turn back. "You're just like her, you know."
"Good," Averie said, and walked out.
That night, she lay in bed staring at the letter again, every word from Wes seared into her memory.
She whispered it out loud, like a promise back:
"When you come back, I'll be waiting. And I won't be hiding."
Then she opened her notes app.
And started writing down everything.
Names. Questions. Places. Connections.
It wasn't just about love anymore.
This was war.