Chapter 8

The next three days were the longest nightmare of Celeste's life. She was shoved, verbally abused, and even deliberately tripped, leaving her knees bloody and raw. No one treated her wounds or gave her a sip of clean water. She curled up in the corner, gritting her teeth as she counted down the seconds. In just three days, she would finally be free. On the third evening, the iron door finally opened. Damien stood silhouetted in the doorway, his face hidden in shadow, so Celeste couldn't make out his expression. It was only when he came closer that his heart skipped slightly. "What happened?" Celeste's clothes were so dirty that their original color was unrecognizable. Her arms and knees were covered in bruises and scrapes, and the corner of her mouth still bore dried blood. Ophelia immediately linked her arm through his and said softly, "Celeste probably hurt herself on purpose to gain sympathy." She pursed her lips. "It was just a few days in county jail. What could possibly happen to her?" Damien stared at Celeste for several seconds, then said coldly, "Celeste, are you going to keep this up forever?" Celeste managed only a bitter smile, too exhausted to even explain. Damien didn't leave immediately after returning to the mansion, which was rather rare. He sat on the couch and calmly announced, "From now on, I'll spend Mondays and Tuesdays with you and the rest of the time with Lia." Celeste stood at the foot of the stairs, saying nothing. "Today is Wednesday, so I'm going to be with her." He stood up and grabbed his jacket. "Don't disturb me for the next few days." He walked to the door and added, "I'll be back next Monday." Celeste looked at him and said flatly, "Okay, goodbye." How ridiculous—did he think she would still be waiting for him to come back? Damien frowned slightly, seeming somewhat surprised by her attitude, but ultimately said nothing and turned to leave. The moment the front door closed, Celeste's phone suddenly vibrated. It was a text message. "Ms. Wilde, your identity erasure procedures have been completed." Celeste stared at the message, her eyes welling up and her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from her chest. She was free. She immediately grabbed the luggage she had packed long ago and walked out of the mansion without looking back. Thomas and Eleanor were already waiting for her at the airport gate. When they saw her arrive, Eleanor's eyes reddened as she hugged her tightly. "Sweetheart, it's all over now." Celeste nodded, her own eyes equally bloodshot. Yes, it was all over. Six years ago, Damien had knelt at her family's doorstep on that snowy night, saying he wanted to carve her into his very life. And now, she had personally carved his name out of hers. As they prepared to board, she took out her phone, removed the SIM card, and snapped it in half between her fingers. "Here is your boarding pass," the staff member said respectfully. Celeste casually tossed the broken SIM card into the trash, took the boarding pass, and walked toward the gate holding her parents' hands with firm strides. Her back was perfectly straight, and her steps held not even a trace of hesitation. From this moment forward, Damien Ashford would no longer exist in her world!