The Caged Wife's Flight Plan - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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They threatened to tear down the orphanage, forcing my younger self to swallow my pride and surrender. But I refused to let go of my dreams.
When the contract was nearing its end, I secretly took the exam—no one knew. I was determined to carve my own path into a new world.
Now, eight years later, no one could clip my wings.
I packed my meager belongings in minutes.
Just as I was leaving, I ran into Sonny returning home—with a girl in tow. She was Kenzie, the rising star, young and stunning, her almond-shaped eyes eerily reminiscent of Jennie's.
Sonny held her hand and barely glanced at my suitcase.
"Where do you think you're going? Is lunch ready? Did you check Stephan's homework?"
Before I could answer, Stephan threw himself at Kenzie, whining, "Aunt Kenzie! You're finally here! I missed you so much. Being stuck with that nagging old woman is torture. Take me for ice cream, please?"
Sonny ruffled Stephan's hair and tossed me a wad of cash. "Kenzie and I have plans. Go buy what we need." Then, with icy detachment, he added, "Oh, and grab two boxes of condoms. Kenzie's young—pills aren't good for her."
For eight years, I'd swallowed those same pills, wrecking my body. Even after a miscarriage, he showed no mercy. Eight years, and I still couldn't measure up—not to Jennie, not even to her cheap imitation.
This time, I'd had enough.
"Mr. Monroe," I said firmly, "the contract's expired. I'm leaving."
Sonny's hand froze mid-air.
It was the first time I'd ever defied him. His face darkened. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the money at me. The sharp edges of the bills nicked my cheek, drawing blood.
"Meredith," he sneered, "who do you think you are to refuse me? One word from me, and that pathetic orphanage of yours is rubble."
I shrugged. "Do what you want. I don't care."
The old director who raised me had passed last year. Back then, I'd begged Sonny to let me say goodbye.
He'd just frowned. "No. Stay home with the kids. You'll only bring your poverty and bad luck into this family."
When I tried to sneak out, he locked me in a pitch-black room—three days without food or water, listening to Stephan and the servants laugh while I withered in the dark.
Over those eight years, my orphanage friends had chased their dreams, thriving in their passions. Meanwhile, I rotted in this loveless house—Stephan's nanny, Sonny's plaything.
Now, the contract was done. The cruelty of father and son had severed my last thread of attachment.
Like the child I'd lost, I would leave the Monroes—forever.
I grabbed my suitcase and strode forward.
Suddenly, Sonny yanked me back, his grip tight. For once, he held back his rage, his voice almost pleading.
"Meredith, stay. I'll give you anything you want."
But I was already gone.
When the contract was nearing its end, I secretly took the exam—no one knew. I was determined to carve my own path into a new world.
Now, eight years later, no one could clip my wings.
I packed my meager belongings in minutes.
Just as I was leaving, I ran into Sonny returning home—with a girl in tow. She was Kenzie, the rising star, young and stunning, her almond-shaped eyes eerily reminiscent of Jennie's.
Sonny held her hand and barely glanced at my suitcase.
"Where do you think you're going? Is lunch ready? Did you check Stephan's homework?"
Before I could answer, Stephan threw himself at Kenzie, whining, "Aunt Kenzie! You're finally here! I missed you so much. Being stuck with that nagging old woman is torture. Take me for ice cream, please?"
Sonny ruffled Stephan's hair and tossed me a wad of cash. "Kenzie and I have plans. Go buy what we need." Then, with icy detachment, he added, "Oh, and grab two boxes of condoms. Kenzie's young—pills aren't good for her."
For eight years, I'd swallowed those same pills, wrecking my body. Even after a miscarriage, he showed no mercy. Eight years, and I still couldn't measure up—not to Jennie, not even to her cheap imitation.
This time, I'd had enough.
"Mr. Monroe," I said firmly, "the contract's expired. I'm leaving."
Sonny's hand froze mid-air.
It was the first time I'd ever defied him. His face darkened. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the money at me. The sharp edges of the bills nicked my cheek, drawing blood.
"Meredith," he sneered, "who do you think you are to refuse me? One word from me, and that pathetic orphanage of yours is rubble."
I shrugged. "Do what you want. I don't care."
The old director who raised me had passed last year. Back then, I'd begged Sonny to let me say goodbye.
He'd just frowned. "No. Stay home with the kids. You'll only bring your poverty and bad luck into this family."
When I tried to sneak out, he locked me in a pitch-black room—three days without food or water, listening to Stephan and the servants laugh while I withered in the dark.
Over those eight years, my orphanage friends had chased their dreams, thriving in their passions. Meanwhile, I rotted in this loveless house—Stephan's nanny, Sonny's plaything.
Now, the contract was done. The cruelty of father and son had severed my last thread of attachment.
Like the child I'd lost, I would leave the Monroes—forever.
I grabbed my suitcase and strode forward.
Suddenly, Sonny yanked me back, his grip tight. For once, he held back his rage, his voice almost pleading.
"Meredith, stay. I'll give you anything you want."
But I was already gone.
End of The Caged Wife's Flight Plan Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to The Caged Wife's Flight Plan book page.