I was en route to the abortion clinic due to financial struggles and mounting debts, but I reversed course to retrieve my ID. In the mailbox was a letter: my childless aunt, whom I hadn’t seen in 20 years, left me her entire inheritance, but with one STRANGE condition…

I sat in one deep armchair, pressed the spoon to my chest, and cried. Tears of gratitude and peace. My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out. Ten missed calls from Brandon. And a message full of curses and threats.

I looked at his name on the screen, then at this quiet, sunlit room. And without regret, hit «Block.» His world couldn’t reach me anymore.

The first few days in Aunt Matilda’s apartment felt like a dream. I’d wake in the huge bed under the lace canopy and for seconds not know where I was. Then remember, and a wave of quiet, almost childlike delight washed over me. I’d wander rooms, touching things, guessing their stories.

In one poetry volume in the library, I found a pressed edelweiss flower. In a vanity drawer, an antique dragonfly brooch with enamel wings. Each item was not just a thing, but a piece of a life I barely knew, but which saved me.

I’d sit hours in the deep chair by the window, hand on belly, just watching the city. I felt the tension I’d lived with for years slowly release. I started sleeping well, got my appetite back, even hummed softly while dusting porcelain figurines.

I knew the calm wouldn’t last, and I was right. On the fourth day, my old phone, left on for emergency contact with ex-colleagues, rang with an unknown number. I answered.

It was the supermarket manager, her voice irritated. «Ashley, where are you? You missed your shift, no warning? Your, uh, boyfriend came in.

He’s demanding to see you. Says you stole from him and ran off. He’s yelling in the store, scaring customers.

Come deal with him. Problems because of you.» My heart skipped.

Brandon. I couldn’t imagine he’d stoop to this, showing up at my job for a public scene. Shame flushed my cheeks, but I composed myself.

My voice sounded surprisingly calm and firm. «Irina, I don’t work there anymore. Tell him if he doesn’t leave, I’ll call the police.

I’ll mail my resignation today. Sorry for the trouble.» I hung up and shook.

Not from fear, but rage and humiliation. He tried painting me as a thief, a crazy who fled with his cash. He wanted to ruin my reputation, grind me down to force me back.

I went to the window and took deep breaths. «He’s not scary anymore,» I said aloud. «He’s in the past; you have a future.»

To prove it, I sat at Aunt Matilda’s massive desk, found blank paper and a fancy gold-nib pen. In clear, steady script, I wrote my resignation. No explanations, just facts.

Done, I dressed, took the envelope, and left. I needed the post office. Needed this act to burn the bridges for good.

Returning home after mailing it, feeling another heavy chain dropped, I met an elderly woman in the lobby. Short, with neat gray hair and lively, clear eyes. She eyed me head to toe, attentive but not judging.

«Good day,» she said in a surprisingly soft voice. «You must be Ashley, the new owner of Matilda’s apartment?» I nodded, surprised. «Yes, that’s me. And you?» «Anna Brown,» she introduced.

«Matilda and I were friends over forty years, lived on the same floor.» She paused, then added. She talked about you a lot lately, worried so much.

My breath caught. Someone else knew, witnessed her care. «Would you like to come for tea?» Anna offered suddenly.

«I baked apple pie. Not good for a young mom to snack on the go.» She said «young mom» so simply, I couldn’t refuse.

Her apartment was the opposite of Aunt Matilda’s. Small, very cozy, with flowers on sills, knitted doilies, cinnamon smell. We sat at a small round kitchen table; Anna poured fragrant herbal tea.

Matilda was reserved, she began, slicing pie. Many thought her proud, but no. Tough fate.

Young, she loved a pilot. They planned marriage, but he died in a test flight. She was left alone, pregnant.

Anna sighed. Back then, scandal; parents turned away, forced her to end it. She never forgave herself.

Said she traded happiness for a good name no one needed. After, she shut everyone out, transferred unspent love to your grandma, then you, from afar. I listened, breathless.

Now I understood. Understood the depth of her letter request. Not a whim.

Her attempt to fix her youth’s mistake. Through me, give chance to that other unborn girl. She followed your life as she could, Anna continued.

Through distant acquaintances, relatives. Knew it was hard for you. Knew about your guy.

She grimaced disgustedly. Said weak man, no support, he’ll ruin the girl. She feared you’d repeat her mistake…