After hanging up, I noticed Kholod standing in the bedroom, watching me.
"What were you discussing?"
"The Association Exhibition. We talked about my artistic concept."
He scrutinized me for a long time before finally nodding. "You can call her again next week."
"Thank you."
He turned and left. I returned to my seat by the window.
My hand gently touched my belly. Wait a little longer, baby. Mama will get us out of here.
Zoe worked quickly.
During the second call, she told me, "I found a wonderful partner. She has friends who are willing to help you find rare blue pigments."
"Really? When can they deliver?"
"Next week. She's holding an art exhibition in town—we need to wait for her return."
"I wish I could go see it too."
"She would definitely welcome you. You could sell paintings there too—with your skill level, the income would be quite good."
"That sounds wonderful! I'll definitely go if I have the chance. I should continue preparing my artwork now."
"Keep it up!"
The third call came a week later.
"Noelle, I found an excellent frame supplier who offers custom services and can handle shipping for you."
"Perfect! I've been too busy lately to leave the manor."
"You focus on completing your painting. He'll come directly to pick it up."
"Thank you so much, Zoe!"
"No need for thanks between us."
After hanging up, I looked out the window. Late May—storm season was approaching.
I had to start preparing.
Every day, I secretly gathered essentials—a few changes of clothes, cash, documents—hiding them under the mattress, waiting for the right moment.
At the same time, I began writing divorce papers. Word by word, carefully crafted. I wanted none of his money, none of his property, nothing belonging to the Morozov family. I only wanted freedom and my child's future. After finishing, I hid the papers deep in the closet.
Tonight, Kholod wasn't home—probably handling business matters again.
Lying in bed, listening to thunder rumbling outside, I waited quietly.
Countless images flashed through my mind—Kholod taking me to Iceland, clumsily braiding my hair, his awkward expression when he said "whatever you want," his warmth as he held me in the bathtub... But he had destroyed all of that with his own hands.
Hearing commotion outside the manor, I got out of bed barefoot, retrieved the clothes and documents I'd hidden in the closet, took the divorce papers from the drawer, and changed into the maid's uniform I'd secretly altered.
Everything was ready. Taking a deep breath, I walked to the door.
