The "loft" in Brooklyn was actually a raw industrial space with exposed brick and drafty windows. Harland unlocked the heavy metal door and kicked it open.
"Home sweet home," he said.
Aria walked in. It was sparse. A mattress on the floor, a few easels covered in canvas, a small kitchenette. It was cold.
"I'm sorry," Aria said, sitting on the edge of the mattress. "I shouldn't have said that. Now they know."
Harland put the groceries on the counter. "So what? It's the truth."
Aria pulled out her phone. Her notifications were a solid block of white text.
Trending: AriaYoungMarried HomelessHusband
She opened Instagram. Her DMs were flooded with hate. You're pathetic. Did you pay him? Corina is so much prettier.
Her hands started to shake. The walls of the room felt like they were closing in.
"Stop," Harland said.
He was standing over her. He reached down and plucked the phone from her hands.
"Hey!"
"Garbage belongs in the trash," he said. He looked at the screen for one second, his eyes darkening, then he tossed the phone onto the mattress. "They want to hurt you. Why are you letting them?"
"Because they're my world!" Aria cried, tears spilling over. "My connections, my reputation... Julian will ruin me."
"Julian is a gnat," Harland said. "And that world? It's toxic. Do you want to be Aria, or do you want to be the Young family punching bag?"
Aria wiped her eyes. She looked at the phone. It buzzed again.
"I don't know how to be anyone else," she whispered.
"Start by deleting it," Harland said. "All of it. Disappear."
Aria stared at him. "Delete... everything?"
"Burn it down," he said. "Start fresh."
Aria picked up the phone. Her thumb hovered over the Delete Account button on Instagram. Her heart pounded. This was her history. Her photos. Her life.
She pressed it.
Are you sure?
Yes.
She went to Facebook. Twitter. She paused when she got to LinkedIn. Her professional life, her portfolio, her connections to the industry... that was different. She couldn't erase that if she ever wanted to work again.
She took a deep breath and changed the privacy settings to their maximum, making her profile visible only to her direct connections. She deactivated the account instead of deleting it, a temporary severing of ties. With every click, the tightness in her chest loosened.
When she was done, she looked at Harland.
"Now the SIM," he said.
Aria popped the tray open. She took out the small chip. She snapped it in half. It made a satisfying crack.
She threw the pieces into the trash can.
"I'm gone," she breathed. "I'm invisible."
Harland reached into his pocket and pulled out a cheap-looking flip phone. "Here. Burner. Pre-paid. Nobody has this number except me."
Aria took it. It felt like a toy. "Thank you."
"Hungry?" Harland asked, turning to the kitchen. "I'll make that curry."
Aria watched him chop onions. His movements were precise, rhythmic.
"Harland?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you helping me? Really?"
He paused, the knife hovering over a carrot. "Because I know what it's like to be surrounded by sharks."
He didn't say anything else.
Back in the Young mansion, Julian threw his iPhone against the wall. It shattered.
"She deleted it," he screamed. "She's gone! I can't track her!"
Eugenia sipped her wine, looking bored. "Relax, darling. I just froze her credit cards. She'll be crawling back when she gets hungry."
In Brooklyn, Aria took a bite of the chicken curry. It was spicy, warm, and the best thing she had ever tasted.
