Chapter 5 - Penelope Boards First Class To London Smoothly
While the Reynolds family was collapsing in the Bethesda clinic, I was sitting comfortably in the upper deck of a Boeing 777 at Dulles.
Abigail was sitting beside the window, watching the luggage carts roll across the tarmac with wide, excited eyes.
Charlotte was curled up in the plush leather seat next to me, clutching her favorite stuffed bear as she colored in a book.
My sister Sarah sat across the aisle, sipping a glass of champagne with a satisfied smirk on her face.
“Have you checked your phone?” Sarah asked softly, leaning over the aisle so the girls wouldn't hear.
I pulled my smartphone out of my coat pocket and tapped the screen.
There were seventeen missed calls from Victor.
There were four voicemail notifications from his mother, Miriam.
There was even a text message from Samantha that simply read: “Penelope, where are you? We need to talk about Victor.”
I didn't open the voicemails, nor did I respond to the text message.
I tapped the settings icon, scrolled down to network connectivity, and permanently wiped my domestic SIM card.
I inserted a fresh UK satellite SIM card into the tray, securing my new contact number that only my legal team possessed.
“They know,” Sarah guessed, taking another sip of her champagne.
“It doesn't matter what they know,” I replied calmly, adjusting the soft blanket over Charlotte’s shoulders.
“Victor chose his path when he signed those papers at 10:16 this morning.”
“He traded his real family for a fantasy built on his family’s ancient, backward ego.”
“Now he gets to live in the penthouse he fought so hard to keep, all by himself.”
The flight attendant approached my seat, offering a warm smile and a tray of sparkling juice for the girls.
“Welcome aboard, Ms. Vance,” the flight attendant said politely. “We’ll be taking off for London Heathrow in ten minutes.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking a glass of juice and handing it to Abigail.
I looked out the thick airplane window as the heavy jet engines roared to life, pushing us down the long runway.
As the wheels left the American soil behind, I felt a heavy weight lift from my chest—a weight I had carried for twelve long years.
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I wasn't Penelope the disappointed wife anymore.
I was Penelope Vance, a free woman with her daughters, stepping into a world where our worth was never questioned.
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