Elease walked into the massive walk-in closet. It was larger than most apartments in the city.
Rows of designer dresses, shoes, and handbags lined the walls. Hermès, Chanel, Dior. They were trophies, not clothes. Kason had bought them to drape over her, to make her palatable for his public image, even as he hid her away.
She ignored them all.
She went to the back of the closet, pushing aside a rack of fur coats. There, tucked in the corner, was a battered canvas duffel bag. It was a relic from Elease's past, a bag she’d packed for a camping trip at age twelve and never seen again until it was anonymously returned to the house a year later, empty.
Kason appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He was watching her, waiting for the crack in her armor.
"You're taking the trash bag?" he asked. "Fitting."
Elease didn't respond. She opened a drawer and pulled out two plain black t-shirts and a pair of jeans. She folded them with military precision and placed them in the bag.
She reached for a velvet jewelry box on the island counter.
Kason smirked. "Those diamonds stay. They belong to the Stephens family trust."
Elease opened the box. A diamond necklace glittered under the recessed lighting. It was worth half a million dollars.
She bypassed it completely.
Her fingers closed around a small, tarnished silver locket nestled in the corner of the box. It was cheap, old, and worthless to anyone but her.
She opened it. A tiny, faded photo of a woman with kind eyes stared back. Isolde Finch. Her mother.
Elease snapped the locket shut and shoved it into her pocket.
She moved to the shelf where her electronics were kept. She grabbed a laptop. It looked like a standard model, scuffed and old, but inside, the hardware had been modified. The dormant Phoenix persona had guided her hands years ago, a subconscious urge to build a back door, a hidden weapon she never consciously knew she possessed.
She placed the laptop in the bag and zipped it up. The bag was barely half full.
She turned to Kason. She was wearing silk pajamas.
"Turn around," she said.
Kason rolled his eyes. "I've seen it all before, Elease. The scars don't scare me anymore. They just bore me."
Elease didn't argue. She simply stripped off the silk top.
Kason looked away instinctively, a grimace flickering across his face. The scars on her back were different from the one on her face. They weren't from the fire five years ago. They were older, a horrifying latticework of pale, raised lines—some surgical, some clearly from burns and shrapnel, a map of the lab explosion and experiments that had stolen a year of her childhood. It was a history he knew nothing about, a pain he could not comprehend.
She pulled on a black hoodie and leggings. She slipped her feet into a pair of running shoes.
She picked up the bag.
She walked toward the door. Kason didn't move. He blocked her path, his body filling the frame.
"You're walking out with nothing?" Kason asked. His voice was louder now, edged with frustration. "You think this martyr act will make me feel guilty? Because it won't."
Elease looked up at him.
"Guilt requires a conscience, Kason," she said. "You have none."
She stepped to the side. It was a fluid motion, a subtle shift of weight that allowed her to glide past him without touching him.
Kason reached out and grabbed her arm. His grip was tight, possessive.
"Chelsea is coming here in an hour," he hissed. "Don't be lurking in the lobby like a stray dog."
Elease looked down at his hand on her arm. Her muscles tightened. Her mind, the reawakened Phoenix, calculated the angle of his wrist, the pressure point on his thumb. She could break his wrist in two seconds. It was a skill she didn't know she had until this very moment, but it felt as natural as breathing.
"Let go," she said. Her voice dropped an octave. "Or I break it."
The threat was delivered with such absolute calm that Kason released her instantly. He stepped back, looking at his own hand as if it had been burned.
He laughed, a nervous, jagged sound. "You've lost your mind."
"I've found it," Elease corrected.
She walked down the hallway. Her footsteps were silent on the marble floor.
She passed a large wedding photo hanging on the wall. Kason looked like a prince. Elease was turned away from the camera, hiding her face.
She paused.
Kason watched her, thinking she was having second thoughts.
Elease reached out and turned the frame face down on the console table.
"Bad feng shui," she muttered.
She opened the heavy front door.
"Walk out that door and you don't get a cent!" Kason yelled from the hallway. His voice echoed in the empty space.
The door slammed shut.
The sound was final. It was the sound of a cage opening.
