Chapter 9 - The Departure
At exactly 6:00 AM, the sleek mahogany resort launch pulled up smoothly to our private pier.
Mr. Laurent himself stood on the bow, holding a clipboard and wearing a crisp, professional uniform. He stepped off the boat and gave me a respectful bow of his head.
"Good morning, Ms. Vance. The launch is prepared for your private transfer to Malé International Airport, where your private jet is already cleared for takeoff to Geneva," he said smoothly.
"Thank you, Laurent. You handled everything impeccably," I said, adjusting Mia on my hip and stepping onto the boat.
As the launch cast off its moorings and began to glide slowly away from the private island, we passed by the main public docks where my family was waiting.
Evelyn saw us. She broke away from the group and ran toward the edge of the wooden pier, waving her arms frantically.
"Elena! Elena, please!" she screamed over the rumble of the boat's twin diesel engines. "Don't leave us here like this! We have no money, our cards are declined, and they won't let us board the ferry without cash! Please, have mercy on your family!"
I didn't slow the boat down. I stood on the deck, holding my daughter’s small hand, and looked down at the woman who had spent my entire life teaching me that love was conditional on what you could buy and who you could impress.
"You cared more about a dress than a child, Mom," I said aloud, though she could only read the cold, hard realization in my eyes.
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My father rushed up beside Evelyn, grabbing her arm and pulling her back from the edge of the dock. He looked up at me with a desperate, defeated expression, his lips moving silently behind the glass spray of the wake.
I turned away, looking forward toward the open ocean where the sun was now fully risen, casting a brilliant, blinding path of golden light across the water.
