Anna stepped out of the cab, her hands trembling so badly that she barely managed to shut the door behind her. Clutching her leather purse against her chest, she lifted her gaze to the nameplate beside the towering house number.
The Adler residence.
After all these years, she was home again. Or at least, what used to be home.
Just as she reached out to press the buzzer, a cold raindrop splashed onto her hand, sending a sharp shudder through her already exhausted body. Then, as if mirroring her own emotions, the sky opened up, and the drizzle turned into steady rainfall.
Just what I need right now.
With a weary sigh, she lifted her purse over her head—a pitiful excuse for shelter—and pressed the button.
The intercom crackled, its static breaking the silence before a gruff male voice emerged from the small black speaker.
"How can I help you, Miss?"
Anna hesitated for a moment, her throat tightening. It had been so long since she'd stood on this side of the gate that she barely remembered what it felt like.
"Uh…" she started awkwardly. "My name is Anna Hyde. I'm Mrs. Adler's niece. I… I came to visit her."
A burst of static screeched through the intercom. Then—silence.
Anna frowned. No reply. No acknowledgment. Just the sound of rain pounding harder against the pavement, seeping into her clothes and chilling her to the bone. Her arms ached from holding her purse up, but she refused to lower it.
The seconds stretched into minutes, dragging on with agonizing slowness.
What is going on?
At last, the intercom crackled back to life, the man's voice soaked with hesitation. He let out a heavy sigh before speaking.
"I'm sorry, Miss, but Mrs. Adler has instructed me to inform you that you are not allowed back into this house. If you refuse to leave, she has ordered me to call the police."
Anna froze.
"What…?"
The words barely left her lips, her breath hitching in disbelief. It wasn't enough that her in-laws had tossed her out like garbage—now, her own aunt was turning her away too?
She pressed the button again, her voice firmer this time. "Excuse me, but this is legally my house too. I have the right to enter. Are you sure my aunt didn't say anything else?"
Another weary sigh crackled through the intercom, loud and final. "These are my only orders, Miss. I don't make the rules—I just follow them. Now, please leave the premises."
Tossed away. Again.
A hollow numbness settled in Anna's chest, spreading like ice through her veins. Even the last shred of "real" family she had left no longer wanted her.
This can't be right.
Her fingers trembled as she reached into her purse, retrieving her phone with unsteady hands. She can't do this to me.
She pressed the device to her ear, her grip tightening—whether from the cold or the suffocating anxiety clawing at her chest, she wasn't sure. The dial tone droned on, stretching unbearably long. Just as she was about to hang up, the line clicked, and a familiar voice came through, sharp and distant.
"Yes?"
Anna swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak past the lump in her throat.
"Aunt Lilian," she breathed, relief flickering inside her like a dying ember. "Please, let me in. You must have heard what happened between Robert and me—"
"Yes, I did," Lilian cut her off abruptly, her voice turning even colder. "And frankly, I don't know where you found the audacity to show your face here after disgracing this family—dragging our name through the mud and making us the subject of ridicule."
Anna's breath caught in her throat. Stunned, she stood frozen, gripping the phone tightly as Lilian's words sank in.
What is she talking about?
If there was one thing she knew about the Hydes, it was that they would never allow their reputation to be tarnished even more—not over something as scandalous as a public divorce. They would have done everything in their power to keep it quiet, to bury the story before it ever reached the surface.
But Robert had only asked for a divorce a few hours ago. There hadn't even been time for any rumors to spread.
So why was Lilian speaking as if the whole world already knew?
"Aunt Lilian—" Anna started, but her aunt had no interest in listening.
"Let's not drag this on, alright?" Lilian interrupted, her tone laced with saccharine condescension. "All you had to do was stay married. That's all your late father—my dear brother—ever wanted for you. To be a happy wife. But you just had to ruin it, didn't you?"
A happy wife?
Anna's fingers curled into a fist so tight her nails bit into her palm, her knuckles turning stark white. If only they knew. If only they had the slightest clue how I was treated in that house!
She wanted to scream, to hurl the truth back at them—to make them see.
But the words lodged in her throat, swallowed by the suffocating weight of helplessness pressing down on her chest.
And just like that, Anna had no voice left to fight with.
Lilian smirked. "A divorce... How could you possibly bring such disgrace upon your late father's name? Upon my shoulders? Do you have any idea what this means for our family's reputation?"
Anna's lips pressed into a thin line. Our family's reputation?
Lilian had never cared about that. She was a shameless parasite, living off her brother's fortune while collecting dead husbands like trophies. She had never worked a day in her life, never earned a single thing on her own.
Everything she had was taken.
Like her dead husbands' money.
Like the Adler family inheritance, which she had squandered away in a haze of greed.
Like this house—Anna's house—stolen from her and her late mother.
People just take… over and over again… until there's nothing left.
Lilian's voice cut through her thoughts like a blade. "I've already spoken to our lawyers. You will be removed from the Adler family registry. So leave—don't ever set foot near this house again. You have nothing here anymore."
With that, the call ended.
Anna stood frozen, the phone still pressed against her ear, as if her body refused to believe what had just happened.
A moment ago, she had wanted to scream—to lash out at the injustice, to let the world know what had been done to her. But now... now she was afraid. Afraid that if she spoke, even if she whispered, she would shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces.
Everything was gone.
Her husband. Her family. Her home. Even her name had been stripped from her as if she had never existed at all, never belonged with anyone.
She had nothing.
What am I going to do now?