Chapter 7

Vivian's POV

Audrey listed three things for me to do.

First, transfer all prenatal records to a private clinic affiliated with Dr. Carter, where any information request required my personal authorization.

Second, immediately register my residence and employment so my life would no longer look like a blank space that could be deleted at any moment.

Third, keep all evidence of threats and harassment, but never meet anyone alone.

I followed her instructions perfectly.

I rented a small storefront on a busy street in the old neighborhood. It was tiny, previously a flower shop, with water stains still visible on the walls.

Mary thought it was too run-down, but Audrey loved it. "It's on a busy street, there are neighbors, cameras, and customers. The more ordinary, the safer."

I named the shop "Renascent."

My grandmother loved that word. I missed her.

There were no grand floral arrangements on opening day, only an apple pie baked by Mary.

The retired teacher came by with her repaired shirt and introduced two of her friends on the spot.

By the afternoon, my back was aching, but for the first time in a long time, I wasn't afraid.

At dusk, a young woman carrying a gift box walked into the shop, saying she wanted to repair a gown.

She wore a mask, but her eyes kept darting to my stomach.

The baby in my belly warned me immediately: "Mom, she's not here to fix clothes. She has a recording pen in her bag. She wants to bait you into admitting you're pregnant with Julian's baby."

My heart went cold, but I kept my face blank.

"Leave the gown here. Come back in three days," I said.

The woman smiled and asked, "Isn't it hard running a shop alone, Miss Vance? I heard you used to be close with Mr. Pierce. Why did you suddenly stop talking? Are you pregnant and trying to extort him?"

Two aunts waiting for their clothes looked up at the same time.

I pushed the registration book forward. "Name and phone number for alterations. Personal matters are not registered here."

The woman, unwilling to back down, raised her voice. "Don't get me wrong. I'm just worried about Chloe. She and Julian are childhood sweethearts, and they're about to get married. It looks bad for you to be caught in the middle."

I smiled. "Whoever told you to say that, go talk to them about how it looks."

I picked up the landline phone on the counter and dialed Audrey's number right in front of her.

"Audrey, there's someone in my shop asking about my personal information using Chloe and Julian's names. The camera is on, and there are witnesses here. Should we call the police now, or send a cease-and-desist first?"

The woman's face paled. She grabbed her gift box and bolted.

A car was parked outside, the window rolled halfway down, revealing Sienna Sterling's icy side profile.

She clearly hadn't expected me to stop taking her insults quietly.

I looked through the glass, not hiding, but not chasing either.

That night, Julian called.

I didn't pick up. I sent him a text message: Keep the Sterling family in check. If this happens again, I will release all the names publicly.

Julian replied almost instantly: Where on earth are you?

I looked at the screen, and the baby in my belly said quietly, "Mom, don't tell him."

"I know."

I deleted the chat and pulled down the metal shutter.

The streetlights flickered on, casting the shadow of my little shop onto the ground.

I suddenly felt that although my world was small, it finally had a door, and the key was in my own hands.

Before going to bed, I counted the day's earnings three times.

It wasn't a lot of money, not even a fraction of what Julian used to spend on a dress for me.

But every bill carried the warmth of my customers' hands and my own labor. When I put them into the tin box, they made a soft, reassuring sound, as if confirming one thing: I didn't need Julian to survive.

Mary called to ask if I was tired.

I said yes, but it wasn't the kind of exhaustion that had no end.

Mary laughed on the other end. "The kind of tired that lets you sleep is a good kind of tired."

The baby was sleepy too, his voice soft. "Mom, are we opening the shop tomorrow?"

"Yes." I turned off the light. "The more they want me to hide, the more I will open my doors."

After saying this, I laughed.

In the past, I was afraid of being seen.

Now, I began to understand that what truly protected me was not the dark, but the bright light where everyone could see how I lived my life.