Chapter 2 - The Fifteen Pages
Sleep did not come for the next eleven days, but a ruthless clarity did.
Every time Vincent returned with hollow apologies, expensive jewelry, and excuses coated in casual cruelty, I simply smiled and nodded. Behind that obedient facade, I kept an open leather journal hidden beneath the extra diapers in the nursery closet.
Every missed feeding was noted down to the exact minute.
Every time Nico spiked a mild fever and Vincent was "too busy closing a deal" to answer my frantic calls, I wrote down the timestamp.
When the pediatrician asked why the father’s signature wasn't on the infant vaccination consent form, I recorded the nurse’s pitying glance word for word.
By the fifteenth night, the journal had filled fifteen meticulous pages, typed and printed in clean, damning black ink.
"Are you sure about this, darling?" my mother asked softly over the phone as she packed a small suitcase in the guest room. "A man with Vincent's power will try to bury you under a mountain of lawyers."
"Vincent's power only works when someone cares enough to fight over his money," I replied, taping the manila folder securely shut. "I don't want his casinos, his penthouses, or his blood diamonds. I only want the peace he stole from my son."
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The dawn light slowly touched the Las Vegas skyline, bathing the glass towers in a cold, artificial gold. I looked at the marble coffee table where my engagement ring, my wedding band, and the two envelopes sat together in silence.
We walked out to my brother's waiting sedan at exactly nine in the morning, leaving no trace behind except our absence.
