“Good. Then let’s draft the divorce agreement and get this over with as soon as possible.”
Elysia nodded. “First, I need to move out of Dorian’s place. The more I think about every moment I spent there, the more disgusted I feel.”
That was supposed to be the new home she and Dorian built together, a place just for the two of them. Yet Elysia now called it “Dorian’s place”—a sign of just how completely she had given up on him.
Amara nodded. “Alright, let’s go pack up your things. Can you walk right now? Wait—let me call the nurse first.”
She had Elysia sit on the bed and went to get a nurse.
The nurse arrived quickly and gave Elysia a check-up. She confirmed that Elysia was fine, and the baby hadn’t been harmed; she was cleared to go home. Amara called for a car, and the two of them headed back to Elysia’s apartment.
Elysia had always loved shopping, and she’d lived there long enough to accumulate a lot of things. She pulled out several suitcases, laid them open on the floor, and started to organize her clothes from the closet.
Amara stepped in. “You should rest. I’ll help you pack—just sit there and tell me what goes where.”
Ignoring Elysia’s protests, she gently pressed her back onto the bed and began sorting through the closet, chatting to her the whole time, hoping to lift her spirits.
Gradually, Elysia’s mood improved a little—at least enough to force a smile.
Suddenly, they heard the front door open. Amara’s head shot up from the suitcase, her expression darkening.

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