Chapter 4

Alice's POV

【December 15th is your birthday. Pack after that.】 Matt.

I stared at the message for like ten seconds, reading it over and over. He... he still remembered my birthday? After everything that happened, after calling me a murderer, after telling me he didn't give a crap about me anymore?

"He... still remembers my birthday?" I whispered to the empty room.

Maybe he heart still cares about me... even just a little bit.

My fingers were trembling as I typed back: 【Okay. Thank you for remembering.】

The response came immediately: 【Yeah.】

That one word shouldn't have given me hope. It was just "yeah." But sitting there on my bed, surrounded by the mess of my life, it felt like maybe... maybe there was still something left.

"Maybe... maybe there's still hope," I said out loud, and immediately felt stupid for talking to myself.

But I unpacked anyway. Folded my clothes back into the dresser, pushed the duffel bag under the bed. Three more days. I could survive three more days.

December 13th. Matthew didn't come home.

December 14th was worse. I kept checking my phone, hoping for another text. Around dinner time, I broke and sent him a message: 【Tomorrow's my birthday. Will you come home?】

The little "read" notification popped up immediately. But no response.

I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror that night, practicing what I'd say when he came back. "Thank you for remembering" felt too formal. "I'm glad you're here" felt too needy. "I missed you" felt like setting myself up to get hurt again.

December 15th. My 25th birthday.

I'd been lying in bed since 10 PM, listening to every sound in the building. Mrs. Rodriguez's TV through the walls. Someone's music upstairs.

At 11:17, I heard keys in the lock.

My heart started pounding so hard I thought I might pass out. I threw on my robe and rushed to the living room just as Matthew walked in.

He looked exhausted. His hair was messed up, his shirt wrinkled like he'd been somewhere crowded. And in his hand was a white bakery box with elegant gold lettering I could make out even in the dim light.

"You're still awake?" he said, setting the box down on the coffee table.

"Matt! You came back!" The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "Is that...?"

He didn't look at me when he answered. "Birthday cake. For you."

I stared at the box like it might disappear if I blinked. "You... you actually got me a cake?"

He remembered. He went out and bought me a cake.

"You still remember... you really got me a cake?" My voice cracked,.

That's when his phone started ringing. Elena's voice floated through the speaker before he even picked up: "Matt, where are you? We're still waiting for you..."

The hope I'd been building for three days crumbled in about two seconds.

"I still have things to do," Matthew said, already heading back toward the door. "Go ahead and eat it."

"But... can you wait just a minute? Maybe we could..."

He was already at the door. "Maybe another time."

The door shut, and I was alone again.

But there was still the cake. Beautiful white box sitting on our crappy coffee table. Someone who had people who cared about them.

He still got it for me. That has to count for something, right?

Midnight. Officially my birthday.

I approached the bakery box like it was some kind of sacred thing. My hands were shaking as I lifted the lid, and when I saw what was inside, I actually gasped.

It was gorgeous. Three layers of pink cake with perfect white frosting, little sugar flowers around the edges. Exactly the kind of cake I used to dream about when I was a kid in foster care, before the Morrisons took me in and made me part of their family.

"It's so beautiful... he remembered that I love pink."

There was a card tucked under one corner. I pulled it out carefully, expecting to see my name, maybe a simple "Happy Birthday, Alice."

Instead, in elegant script: Dear Elena, Happy Birthday.

I felt like I'd been hit with a bucket of ice water.

Elena. This was Elena's cake. Elena's birthday cake.

This... this is Elena's cake?

I fumbled for my phone, my fingers barely working. Typed out a message: 【This cake... Elena's name is on the card?】

The response came fast, like he'd been expecting me to figure it out: 【Elena's birthday party leftovers. She couldn't finish it. Brought it back for you. Don't waste it.】

【So... this wasn't actually for me?】

【What did you think?】

I stared at those four words until they blurred. What did you think? Like I was an idiot.

Am I really just... a garbage can to him?

I set the phone down with shaking hands and looked at Elena's beautiful birthday cake. Pink frosting that wasn't chosen for me. Sugar flowers that weren't meant for me. A card with someone else's name written in someone else's handwriting.

Even Elena's leftovers were more precious than I was.

1 AM. I found a single candle in the kitchen junk drawer, stuck it in Elena's cake, and lit it.

"Happy birthday, Alice," I whispered to the empty room. "Twenty-five years old."

The candle flame flickered in the dark, and I finally understood where I stood in Matthew's world. I wasn't family. I wasn't even an enemy worth hating properly. I was just... nothing. Someone convenient enough to give Elena's unwanted cake to.

I flipped Elena's birthday card over and wrote on the back with a shaky hand: I'm leaving. Probably won't come back. I didn't touch the cake - you can give it back to Elena.

2 AM. I was back in my room, stuffing clothes into the duffel bag again.

That's when I found it, tangled up in the back of my jewelry box. The necklace Matthew had given me on my first day living with his family. I was seventeen, scared out of my mind, and he'd fastened it around my neck with hands that were gentle and careful.

"Welcome home, Alice," he'd said that day. "You're part of our family now."

The necklace was just a simple silver chain with a small star pendant, probably cost him twenty dollars from the mall. But I'd worn it every single day, until everything went to hell.

The tears came then, ugly and desperate, soaking the necklace chain.

My phone buzzed. David's name on the screen. David, who'd been Matthew's friend since high school. Who'd always been kind to me, even when I was just the weird foster kid tagging along.

Heard you're leaving town? I can help. There's an opportunity to go abroad if you're interested.

I stared at the message through blurry tears.

An opportunity to go abroad. To start over somewhere nobody knew what I'd done. Somewhere I couldn't accidentally destroy anyone else's family.

I picked up my phone and typed back to David: Yes. I'm interested. When can we talk?