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Traded After Twelve Children: The Mistress’s Goodbye / Chapter 5: Freedom in the Savannah Sun
Traded After Twelve Children: The Mistress’s Goodbye

Traded After Twelve Children: The Mistress’s Goodbye

Author: Emily Pearson


Chapter 5: Freedom in the Savannah Sun

5

At the door, a small gray sedan was already waiting.

Just waiting to carry the mistress away.

When I went out, the doorman, remembering how I had shown my face earlier, refused to see me off and grumbled, "Here she comes."

Then slammed the door shut.

The Shaw family’s driver and helpers perked up, looking at me.

I looked at them too: "Gentlemen, please wait a moment. My lady says she still has a few words to say to the heir."

"Your lady? Who are you?"

"Me? I’m her maid. Thank you for your hard work, gentlemen."

I smiled and handed them some loose bills, then waited aside.

Leaving today, I wore old hairpins and plain clothes, no makeup, nothing of a favored mistress’s wealth.

Derek always thought I was pretending to be pitiful to soften his heart.

But he didn’t know, I did it all for this moment.

Sure enough, the helpers believed me and kept waiting.

After a while, I smiled again.

"Gentlemen, are you thirsty? There’s a lemonade stand ahead. I’ll buy some for you, and get a few snacks for my lady."

They were delighted.

I passed by, tossing some bills to the lemonade stand, asking them to deliver it to the helpers later.

Then I turned and quickly walked out of the neighborhood.

I had waited too long for this moment, planned too long, considered every possibility—even tried to switch the doorman twice, losing two children in the process.

Now, I had finally succeeded.

Everything, finally, can begin anew.

The air was thick with the scent of magnolias and old money. I pressed my palm to the banister, remembering every night I’d crept down these stairs.

The late afternoon sun was fierce as I walked toward the city bus stop, the sidewalk warm beneath my feet. I clutched the jewelry box close, my breath coming easy for the first time in years. Somewhere in the distance, someone was mowing a lawn, the sweet scent of cut grass mixing with diesel and distant hope. I didn’t look back.

I stepped into the blinding Savannah sun, the cicadas screaming overhead, and for the first time in years, I felt the world open up—wide, wild, and waiting just for me.

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