Chapter 10 - RETURNING TO THE EMPTY ESTATE
Three days later, Mark drove back to the grand mansion alone while his daughters remained safely resting at his sister's suburban home.
The morning sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawns, making the sprawling estate look eerily peaceful from the outside.
He unlocked the heavy front double doors, stepping into the grand foyer beneath the framed United States flag.
The mansion felt hollow, haunted by the echoes of a fake marriage and the silent suffering endured behind closed doors.
He walked down the dim hallway toward the back wing, his leather shoes clicking sharply against the hardwood floor.
Stopping before the heavy wooden door with the brass handle, he reached out and pushed it open slowly.
The stale scent of dust and fear still lingered in the air of the small, windowless room.
On the wooden bench sat the green plastic plate holding the dried-up, untouched slice of white bread.
Mark picked up the plate with a steady hand, walking over to the fireplace in his study to toss it into the flames.
He watched the plastic melt and the bread turn to ash, symbolizing the absolute destruction of Victoria's reign of terror.
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It was time to pack up every single reminder of the imposter and start completely fresh somewhere else.
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