The heavy iron door shrieked as it was thrown open.
Blinding light flooded the dark cell. I had to raise my arm to shield my eyes.
Against the glare, I made out a silhouette.
Olga stood in the doorway, leaning on her signature dragon-head cane. Behind her, the two guards who'd been watching me were on the ground clutching their legs and groaning. Several of Madam Olga's men held them at gunpoint.
"Dear God..."
I heard an old woman's trembling sigh.
Olga threw down her cane and rushed toward me. She dropped to her knees a few feet away—right into the filthy puddles and dirt.
"Child... oh my God, Harper..."
Olga reached out carefully to touch me. Tears spilled down her face.
"So many rooms in this house, why here?" Olga's voice broke. She pulled me into her arms, her palm rubbing my trembling back. "I came too late, Harper. I'm so sorry. That bastard..."
I leaned against her shoulder, breathing in her scent.
But my heart was numb. No anger. No relief. Inside, I was nothing but scorched earth—not even a spark left.
"Madam Olga." My voice came out rough as sandpaper, unrecognizable even to myself. "I want to leave."
Olga pulled back, cupping my face. Pain and fury blazed in her eyes. "Of course, of course we're leaving. I'm getting you out of this godforsaken place. I'll have the best doctors examine you. I'll make that fool Kirill get on his knees and beg your forgiveness! He will pay for this, Harper. I swear it!"
I knew Olga's rage was real. She genuinely cared.
But I shook myhead slowly.
"I don't need that," I said.
Olga froze. "Harper?"
"No apology. I don't want him punished either." I looked at her, my gaze empty. "None of it matters anymore, ma'am. I don't want his apology. I don't want to see him ever again."
I braced against the wall, trying to stand. The pain in my back made me gasp, but I bit down hard, keeping silent. Olga reached to help me. I turned away from her hands.
I had to stand on my own. From now on, it was only me.
"I just want to do one thing." I looked at Olga, my voice flat. "I need to arrange Aiden's funeral. He's waiting for me."
Olga's expression went rigid. She clearly already knew about Aiden. In that moment, I saw something I'd never seen before on that iron-willed woman's face—real guilt and helplessness.
"Alright." She choked out. "Alright, child. I'll arrange a car right now—"
"No." I cut her off. "I'll do it myself."
I walked out alone. Out of that dark, damp basement. No one stopped me.
The manor's maids clustered in the shadows. I glanced their way. Most watched me with pity. A few with smug satisfaction.
Before, I would've kept my head down, wished I could sink into the carpet, anxious over their meaningless stares.
Now, I didn't give a damn.
I'd finally learned how not to care what people thought—when your world's already burned to ash, why would you notice a few ants scurrying through the ruins?
