Chapter 2: The Last Straw

After I finished speaking, the whole family couldn’t hide their joy.

Even the cook, who’d always brought me extra biscuits, seemed to breathe easier. The air itself grew lighter as soon as I surrendered.

Caleb awkwardly scratched his head and said to Rachel, “I told you Lydia isn’t unreasonable.”

His voice was sheepish, his eyes flickering from Rachel to me and back. He still wanted to be everyone’s favorite.

Rachel snorted and said to me, “Though you come from merchant stock, you know your place. But I’m not kicking you out.”

She gave a little shrug, acting generous. She’d gotten everything she wanted and now pretended it was my idea.

“You’re choosing to leave on your own.”

She raised her eyebrows, daring me to object.

I smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

I kept my voice smooth, unwilling to let them see how much it hurt.

Then I got up and left.

I walked out with my head high, determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

My two maids, Grace and Ellie, were both furious.

I found them waiting for me outside my room. Grace was pacing, fists clenched. Ellie was twisting a friendship bracelet around her fingers, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.

Ellie was so angry she was nearly in tears.

She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, voice trembling. “You don’t deserve this, ma’am. Not after everything you’ve done.”

“What kind of people are these! Always talking about rules and manners, but I think they left theirs at the door!”

Ellie’s voice rose, echoing off the walls. I gave her a gentle hug, wishing I could promise things would get better.

“And Caleb—he’s nothing but an ungrateful jerk. He only got through college and landed his job because of you.”

She stomped her foot for emphasis. Even Grace looked impressed by Ellie’s nerve.

“Now that he’s made it to the judge’s family, he turns his back on the person who helped him!”

Ellie shook her head, cheeks flushed with righteous anger.

Grace was indignant. “Should we call Uncle Alan? He definitely wouldn’t stand for this.”

She sounded hopeful, clinging to the idea that someone would stand up for us. I almost smiled—Alan was always the hero in their eyes.

I shook my head. “He’s deployed up north right now. No need to bother him with this.”

I tried to sound practical, though my voice came out softer than I’d meant. I couldn’t drag Alan into this mess—not yet.

“Besides, he’s still part of the Whitaker family. How could he turn against his own mom and brothers for me, an outsider?”

It stung to say it out loud. After all these years, I was still the outsider.

Every promise felt like a trap now, every smile a setup. I kept my guard up, even with Grace and Ellie.

All the money and care I’d invested over the years—might as well have fed it to the dogs.

I chuckled bitterly. At least dogs give you wagging tails and sloppy kisses in return.

Even the stray mutt I used to feed scraps to out by the garage had more gratitude than this family.

Grace was unwilling to let it go. “Without you, the Whitaker estate wouldn’t be what it is today. Now they’re letting Rachel reap all the benefits. It’s just not right.”

She crossed her arms, jaw set. Grace had always been fiercely loyal—a rare gift in this house.

I smiled faintly. “What’s ours won’t be left behind—not a single cent. As for what Rachel gets, that’s her problem.”

I let the words hang, my smile just a little too sharp.

Grace’s eyes lit up, immediately understanding. “Yes, ma’am!”

She grinned, suddenly eager to help pack.

After my husband died, I could have left the Whitaker estate.

I remembered those sleepless nights, the whispers at church, people telling me I was too young to waste my life as a widow. But I stayed, and not just out of obligation.

Back then, Mrs. Whitaker was ill, Alan and Caleb were teenagers, and the two younger sisters were just kids.

I’d found Mrs. Whitaker in bed, feverish and frail, the kids scattered and scared. Someone had to hold the pieces together, and I was the only one left standing.

There was no one to manage the household.

The bills piled up, the roof leaked, and every holiday felt like a test. I learned to juggle accounts, fix leaky pipes, and soothe crying kids—sometimes all in a single day.

I remembered my husband’s kindness and couldn’t bear to leave, so I took on the burden of the Whitaker estate.

He’d loved this house, these people. I couldn’t bring myself to turn my back on them—not then.

I cared for my mother-in-law, helped raise my siblings-in-law, and made the rundown place a home again.

Every improvement, every painted wall and patched roof, felt like a small victory over the darkness that had threatened to swallow us all after he died.

How pathetic that people can be so fickle—after just a few days of good fortune, they forgot everything.

All it took was a little status, a new wife, and suddenly I was invisible.

If Caleb, a college-educated man, could act like this, could Alan be any different?

I doubted it. Blood is thicker than water, but sometimes it’s just as cold.

I couldn’t afford to trust any longer.

I just wanted to see if they could manage after I left.

Let them try running the place without me. I’d bet good money they wouldn’t last a month.

After all this, my cold seemed to get worse. My head throbbed, my nose ran, and every muscle ached. Grace fussed, but I waved her off and told her to keep packing.

But I still insisted on having people pack my things and leave the Whitaker estate immediately.

There was no way I’d give them the satisfaction of seeing me linger. I directed Grace and Ellie, making sure every last box was labeled and nothing was left behind.

Rachel and Mrs. Whitaker, who hadn’t shown her face until now, became anxious.

They appeared in the hallway, faces flushed and voices raised, as if they finally realized they might have pushed too far.

They stormed into my room in a huff.

Rachel’s heels clicked on the hardwood, Mrs. Whitaker trailing behind, her lips pinched.

“Lydia, what are you trying to pull? Your staff are grabbing things everywhere like it’s a fire sale. Don’t you have any control over them?”

Rachel’s voice was shrill and accusing. She looked around at the half-packed boxes as if I was running a heist right under her nose.