The Last Hope
The phone screen in Erika Walters’s hand went dark again.
2:07 a.m.
She stared at the time for several seconds before pressing the call button once more.
No ringing.
Only the cold, familiar voice of the operator.
“The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable or outside the service area…”
The same message.
The thirty-third call.
Erika exhaled slowly.
Her thumb hovered over the screen before her fingers tightened around the phone.
The master bedroom of the Hart family was enormous, yet somehow it always felt empty.
A crystal chandelier cast warm light over the king-sized bed. The white sheets were perfectly arranged, untouched on one side.
They had been that way for years.
Too neat for a husband and wife who were supposed to share the same room.
Three years.
Erika had lived in this house for three years.
And every night, the bedroom felt colder than a hotel room after its last guest had checked out.
“Where are you, Adrian…?”
Her voice disappeared into the silence.
For a moment, she considered going downstairs and asking her mother-in-law.
The thought lasted only a few seconds.
Questions about Adrian always ended the same way.
A cold stare.
A cutting remark.
And another reminder that Erika had never truly been considered worthy of the Hart family name.
She was about to turn off the screen when footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Uneven.
Slow.
Then came a woman’s quiet laughter.
Something hit the floor.
A bottle.
Then the sharp click of high heels stopping directly outside the bedroom.
Click.
The door swung open so violently that it struck the wall.
The smell reached Erika first.
Alcohol.
Cigarettes.
And a woman’s overly sweet perfume.
The figure in the doorway staggered slightly before steadying himself against the frame.
Adrian Hart.
His tie was gone. Two buttons of his shirt were undone, and his hair was a mess.
But none of that was what made Erika’s chest tighten.
His arm was wrapped around a woman’s waist.
Felicia Evans.
She leaned against Adrian’s shoulder as though she belonged there.
As though that was where she had always been meant to stand.
Their eyes met.
Felicia said nothing.
She simply smiled.
A small, satisfied smile.
“Did you just get home?”
Erika’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Adrian walked past her.
He didn’t answer.
“I called you all night.”
Silence.
“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?”
Still nothing.
Adrian dropped onto the edge of the bed.
His collar shifted.
A smear of red lipstick stood out against his skin.
Erika closed her eyes for a moment.
“Say something.”
Adrian finally looked up.
His gaze was cold.
“Who gave you the right to interrogate me?”
Erika’s lips parted.
“I…”
She swallowed.
“…I’m your wife.”
One corner of Adrian’s mouth lifted.
“Wife?”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
“That’s funny.”
He pointed toward the nightstand.
“The divorce papers are still in there.”
Erika didn’t move.
“I’ve told you countless times to sign them.”
Felicia gave a soft little laugh.
“Darling… don’t be angry.”
She ran her fingers slowly across Adrian’s chest.
“I’m scared when you get like this.”
Adrian didn’t push her away.
Instead, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap.
Erika stared.
Felicia looked at her.
Then Adrian kissed her.
Right there.
In front of Erika.
The room fell silent.
Only their breathing filled the space.
Erika’s fingers curled into fists.
Her nails dug into her palms until they hurt.
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to pull Felicia away.
She wanted to slap Adrian across the face.
But her feet refused to move.
Felicia opened her eyes during the kiss.
Her gaze found Erika again.
That same smile remained on her lips.
A challenge.
A warning.
Adrian reached for the edge of Felicia’s blazer.
Erika looked away.
Enough.
She turned toward the door.
Neither of them stopped her.
The bedroom door closed softly behind her.
For several seconds, Erika stood motionless in the hallway.
Then—
Laughter.
The sound of the bed shifting.
She walked faster.
The hallway seemed longer than it had ever been.
She didn’t stop until she reached the staircase.
Her breathing was uneven.
One hand flew over her mouth, trapping the sound that threatened to escape.
The first tear finally fell.
And once it did, she couldn’t stop the others.
Morning came too quickly.
Erika had spent the hours since sunrise in the backyard garden.
Her hands remained busy trimming the roses.
Snip.
Snip.
Snip.
As long as she kept cutting, she didn’t have to think about the sounds she had heard the night before.
“Servant!”
The shrill voice made the scissors stop.
Erika closed her eyes for a moment.
Then she walked inside.
Mary Hart sat elegantly on the living room sofa, sipping her morning tea.
Beside her, Juliet was scrolling through her phone without even bothering to look up.
The moment Erika approached, Juliet suddenly covered her nose.
“Ugh. What’s that smell?”
Mary frowned.
“Did you forget to bathe?”
“I just finished taking care of the garden, Mom.”
Erika lowered her gaze.
“I’ll shower now.”
Mary placed her teacup on the table.
Tap.
The tiny sound somehow carried more weight than a shout.
“If you know you smell…”
Her eyes traveled slowly from Erika’s head to her shoes.
“…then don’t come into our living room and stink up the place.”
Juliet snickered.
“She’s right. A servant is still a servant.”
Erika drew a slow breath.
“I’m sorry.”
That was all she said.
She turned before the tears could fall again.
Their laughter followed her all the way to the bedroom.
The moment she locked the door behind her, Erika leaned against it.
Slowly, her body slid down until she was sitting on the floor.
Her eyes drifted toward the bed.
The sheets were wrinkled.
The scent of perfume still lingered in the room.
She forced herself to stand.
Then walked toward the nightstand.
Her hand instinctively reached for the pillows and straightened them.
She stopped.
The small drawer beside the bed was slightly open.
Something brown was visible inside.
The folder.
Erika pulled it out.
The divorce papers.
Three years ago, she had stayed because she believed people could change.
She had believed marriage could be repaired.
She had believed patience could eventually become love again.
Last night had killed the last of that hope.
Erika held the folder tightly.
Her fingers had barely touched the edge of the papers when her phone vibrated inside her pocket.
One new message.
From a number that had never appeared on her phone in three years.
She stared at the screen.
Little sister. We’re already outside the gate. If you’re finally done enduring this… come home.
Erika read the message again.
And again.
The tears that had been gathering in her eyes stopped.
Slowly, the corner of her lips lifted.
For the first time in three years, Erika smiled.
But there was no hope in that smile.
Only a decision.
She placed the phone against her chest.
Then looked toward the bedroom door.
Outside that room, the Hart family continued with their morning as though nothing had changed.
They had no idea what was waiting beyond their gates.
They had no idea who had just arrived.
And most importantly—
They had no idea what Erika Walters had finally decided to leave behind.
Because the woman they had spent three years humiliating…
was no longer planning to beg for a place in the Hart family.
She was going home.
And the people waiting for her outside the gate were about to change everything.
