Around the table, whispers rippled. Vivian’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. Ryan kept the camera steady, ready to catch tears.
Instead, I reached for the pen beside my plate, steady and calm, just as I’d done countless times during my years in uniform. Without a tremor, I signed. Then I looked Vivian in the eye and smiled.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “This is the best gift you could’ve given me.”
For a moment, no one breathed. Then I stood, heels clicking against marble, and walked out—each step deliberate, each one louder than their silence.
What they didn’t know was that three days earlier, I’d already unwrapped my real birthday gift—a future they could never control.
Three Days Before the Party
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