Cláudia took me to her house that night. She made tea, prepared the guest room, and gave me one of her nightgowns. She treated me like a daughter, as she always had since Mom died.
"You'll stay here as long as you need," she said firmly. "And tomorrow, we're going to the lawyer. We'll fight for your inheritance, for the money your mother left. Monica can't just steal what's rightfully yours."
But I barely listened. I was too exhausted, too broken.
I slept badly. Nightmares of Sofia wearing a wedding dress, of Rafael saying "I do," of everyone applauding as I shouted that this was MY wedding.
I woke up at six in the morning, sweaty, my heart racing.
Today was Saturday. The day that was supposed to be my wedding.
The day that was supposed to be Sofia's wedding.
My phone had seventeen missed messages. Rafael trying to explain. Sofia asking me to "understand." Monica demanding that I "stop the drama." Even some distant cousins, probably already aware of the scandal, sent messages of "support" that seemed more like morbid curiosity.
But nothing from my father.
Of course not. Why would he bother?
"Elena?" Claudia knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"
"Yes."
She came in with a breakfast tray. Pancakes, fruit, orange juice. Everything Mom used to make on the weekends.
"You need to eat," she said, placing the tray on the bed. "I know it's the last thing you want, but you need to keep your strength up."
"For what?" My voice was hollow. "Claudia, I lost everything. My fiancé, my family, my... my entire future. What does it matter if I eat or not?"
She sat on the edge of the bed, taking my hand.
"It matters because you'll get through this. It doesn't feel like it now, but you will." And when you get over it, you'll need the strength to rebuild."
"I don't want to rebuild." Tears burned my eyes again. How could I still have tears? "I want... I want to go back in time. I want Mom to be alive. I want Monica to never have appeared. I want Sofia to not exist. I want..."
"I want Rafael to truly love you," Claudia finished gently.
I nodded, sobbing.
"But he doesn't. He never loved, did he?" I looked at her, desperate for denial. "He says I'm wrong. He says he loves and is just confused. He says..."
"I can't say that, my love." Her eyes were watering. "Because it would be a lie. And there are already too many people lying to you."
The words hurt more than anything Rafael had said.
"How do you know? That he doesn't love me?"
"Because men who love don't do that." "Simple. Final." "No matter the excuse, no matter the circumstances. Men who truly love don't abandon. They don't change." They don't choose others."
"But Sofia is dying..."
"And that's tragic. Truly tragic." Claudia squeezed my hand. "But it doesn't change the fact. If Rafael loved you like he promised, he would have found another way to help Sofia. He would have refused. He would have put you first. But he didn't."
"So I wasted six years."
"No. You loved. Deeply. And there's no waste in that." She wiped my tears. "But now you need to love yourself enough to leave. To not accept crumbs. To demand better."
"I don't know if I can."
"You can." She smiled, sad but confident. "You're Isabella Moreira's daughter. And your mother was the strongest woman I've ever known. That strength is within you too. You just need to find it."
I wanted to believe. God, how I wanted.
But all I felt was emptiness.
"Claudia... I need to go to the mansion," I said suddenly. "I need to get my things." Clothes, documents, everything. It's all still there."
"Today? Elena, today is the..."
"The wedding. I know." I took a deep breath. "That's exactly why. Everyone will be busy with preparations. It's the best time."
She hesitated, clearly worried, but finally nodded.
"I'll go with you."
"No." I got up from the bed, sudden determination filling me. "I need to do this alone. I need... I need to face them. I need to end this on my terms."
"Elena..."
"Please. Trust me."
She didn't like it. But she agreed.
________________________________________
The Moreira mansion looked different in the morning light. Or maybe I was different. I wasn't the girl who grew up here anymore, who ran through these gardens, who was happy within these walls.
That girl died yesterday.
I used my key—surprisingly, it still worked—and entered through the side door. The house was in controlled chaos. Florists coming and going, event organizers shouting instructions, caterers preparing food.
All for Sofia's wedding.
I managed to climb the stairs unnoticed. My old room—now Sofia's—had its door closed. Voices came from inside. Sofia and Monica.
"...I can't believe she's not coming!" Sofia sounded hysterical. "What kind of sister does this? At my last wedding!"
"Calm down, darling. You'll ruin your skin." Monica, always practical. "Elena is being dramatic, as always. But it doesn't matter. Everyone who matters will be here."
"But what if people think it's my fault? That I stole her fiancé?"
"You didn't steal anything." Monica's voice was firm. "Rafael chose you. And what about what people think? Let me handle that. I've already spread the word that Elena is having an emotional breakdown, that she's being irrational. Everyone will sympathize with you, the sick bride."
Bile rose in my throat. Of course. Of course Monica was already controlling the narrative.
"And the money?" Sofia asked. "Elena's trust fund? Did you get it?"
"I got it. It's transferred. Legally, with your stepfather's signature." Triumphant in Monica's voice. "Elena no longer has access to anything."
Silence. Then:
"She'll find out."
"Let her find out." Monica laughed, humorlessly. "What will she do? Sue? With what money? She can barely pay rent. No, darling. We won. Completely."
My world spun. They stole my money. The trust fund that Mom left specifically for me. The only financial security I had.
They stole it.
And Dad allowed it. He signed the documents.
I stepped back silently, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure they would hear. I went to the guest room where my things still were—I had moved there after I started dating Rafael, saying I wanted "independence."
I began packing mechanically. Clothes, books, photos. Not much. My whole life fit into two suitcases.
Pathetic.
"Elena?"
I froze. My father's voice came from the door.
I turned slowly. Augusto Moreira was there, impeccable suit, gray hair perfectly combed. He looked older than I remembered. Or maybe I was just really seeing him for the first time.
"I came to get my things," I said, my voice surprisingly calm.
"I see that." He entered the room, closing the door behind him. "Elena, we need to talk."
"About what? About how you signed papers transferring my inheritance to Sofia? About how you chose her over me for the thousandth time?" "About how you let my fiancé marry her?"
He didn't deny it. Nor did he seem surprised that I knew.
"It was necessary."
"NECESSARY?" I yelled, and all the composure I had maintained crumbled. "Stealing from me was NECESSARY?"
"It wasn't theft. It was reallocation of resources," he said, as if discussing business strategy. "Sofia needs constant medical care. Experimental treatments, trips to specialists, all very expensive. The money is better spent on her."
"But it was MINE! Mom left it for ME!"
"Your mother didn't know Sofia would get sick," he retorted. "If she had known, I'm sure she would have made provisions..."
"LIE!" I lunged at him, finger pointed accusingly. "Mom hated Monica! She warned me! Said Monica was a snake! And if she were alive, she would NEVER allow this!"
"But she isn't." The words were brutally cruel. "Isabella is dead, Elena." "And I'm your executor. I decide how the money is used."
— It's illegal. — My voice trembled. — The trust was irrevocable. You can't just transfer it..."
— I already transferred it. — He crossed his arms. — My lawyers made sure everything was done legally. You can contest it, of course. But without money for your own lawyers? Good luck."
My father. My own father was telling me, coldly, that he had robbed me and there was nothing I could do.
— Why? — The question came out broken. — Why do you hate me so much?"
Something passed across his face. Briefly. Pain? Regret? But it disappeared so quickly I thought I had imagined it.
— I don't hate you.
"So what?" Tears were flowing freely now. "Why do you always choose her? Always put her first? What did I do so wrong?"
He was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was tired.
"You look so much like her. Like Isabella. Same eyes, same smile, same stubbornness." He looked away. "And it hurts. It hurts to look at you and see the woman I lost."
The words hit me like a slap.
"So you punish me? For looking like Mom?"
"It's not punishment. It's... self-preservation." He finally looked at me. "Sofia is easy. She doesn't remind me of anything painful. Monica is practical, efficient. They don't demand emotions I can't give. But you? You always demanded more. You always wanted me to be the father I can't be."
"I just wanted to be loved!" I screamed. "I just wanted you to see me!" Who cares!"
"I care." But it was as empty as everything else he said. "In my own way."
"Your way is shit."
He didn't rebuke the curse. He just sighed.
"Elena, I'll give you some advice. Accept the situation. Come to the wedding, support your sister, be gracious. And when Sofia... when she's gone, Rafael will come back to you. You can get married. You can have the life you wanted."
"With leftovers." I repeated the words I'd said to Rafael. "You want me to accept leftovers and be grateful."
"I want you to be realistic." He leaned closer. "Elena, look at yourself. You have no money, no established career, nothing. Rafael is probably the best option you'll ever have. So yes, accept leftovers." It's better than nothing."
The words were designed to destroy me. And they worked.
Because he was right, wasn't he? No money, no family, no nothing. I was nothing. I had nothing. I was nothing.
"Get out!" I whispered.
"Elena..."
"GET OUT!" I screamed with everything I had. "Get out of this room, get out of my life, get out of EVERYTHING! I never want to see you again!"
"You're being dramatic..."
"I'm being honest!" I lunged at him, and he actually recoiled, surprised. "You never loved me! You never cared! I was just an inconvenient reminder of something you lost!" And now that you have the perfect surrogate family, you don't have to pretend anymore!"
"You'll regret this conversation when you calm down..."
"THE ONLY THING I REGRET IS HAVING WASTED TWENTY-SIX YEARS TRYING TO WIN THE LOVE OF SOMEONE UNABLE TO LOVE!" Tears, lipstick, everything streaming down my face, but I didn't care anymore. "Mommy deserved better than you! I deserve better than you! And you know what? I hope I never become like you! Cold, empty, too cowardly to feel!"
He turned pale. Finally, finally, I'd touched a nerve.
"You don't know what you're talking about." His voice was low, dangerous.
"I know exactly." I stepped closer, looking him straight in the eye. "You're a man who let the pain of loss turn him into a monster. Who replaced family with convenience. Who chose ease over love. And you're going to die alone, Daddy. Because Sofia is only here for the money." Monica's only here for status. And me? I'm leaving. And I'm never coming back."
"If you walk out that door..." he began.
"What? You're going to disown me?" I laughed, but it sounded hysterical. "You already did! You're going to kick me out? I'm leaving now! You're going to stop loving me? YOU NEVER LOVED ME!"
Silence. Absolute, heavy silence.
And then, so soft I almost didn't hear:
"Get out of my house."
The words, even though expected, hit me like a punch.
"With pleasure." I grabbed my bags. "And Dad? When you need me. When you realize you chose wrong. When Monica leaves you because the money runs out. When Sofia dies and you're alone with your guilt. When everything falls apart..."
"Elena..."
"Don't look for me. Because I won't be there. You had your chance. You had twenty-six years of chances. And you wasted them all."
I walked past him, suitcases banging against the door, and went down the stairs.
Monica was in the hall, supervising decorations. When she saw me, her eyes narrowed.
"Elena. I thought you weren't coming."
"I came to get my things." I continued walking towards the door.
"About the trust fund..." she began, her voice sweet as poison.
"I know." I stopped, turned to face her. "I know you stole it. I know Dad signed it. I know everything."
She had the audacity to smile.
"And what are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing. Today." I admitted. "But one day? One day I'll make you pay. You, Sofia, everyone who made a fool of me. One day."
"Empty threats from a desperate girl." Monica shrugged. "Go away, Elena." "You don't belong here anymore."
— You're right. — I looked around at the house I grew up in, the house I loved, the house that suffocated me. — I don't belong. I never belonged. This house is rotten inside, just like the people in it."
— Okay, enough drama...
— And you know what else, Monica? — I approached her, low enough for only her to hear. — Sofia is going to die. The doctors gave her six months. And when she dies, and you no longer have your perfect excuse, when you're just an aging widow who stole from her own stepdaughter? Valmont will destroy you. Because this town loves scandal. And you? You'll be the biggest one."
I saw real fear pass through her eyes. Brief, but it was there.
— Get out. Now. — She spoke through gritted teeth.
— I'm leaving. — I adjusted my bags. — But remember: Valmont is a small town. And secrets always come to light. Always."
I left through the main door, descending the marble steps for the last time.
The sun was high now. A beautiful day for a wedding. A day that should have been mine.
But as I put my bags in my car, as I looked at the mansion for the last time, I felt something strange.
It wasn't peace. It still hurt too much to be peace.
But it was something like relief.
Because finally, finally I had said everything. I had defended myself. I had refused to be a silent victim.
And now? Now I was free.
Free from the toxic family. Free from impossible expectations. Free from the race I could never win.
But freedom has a price.
And when I started the car, when I drove away from that mansion, when I realized I was literally homeless, penniless, without anything...
That price seemed very, very high.
My phone rang. A message from Rafael:
"Elena, please. Come to the wedding. Just come. We need to talk afterward. I love you. I will always love you. Please."
I deleted it without replying.
Another message. Sofia:
"You're selfish. I hope you feel good about ruining my last happy day."
I deleted it.
Monica:
"Return the keys to the mansion. You don't live here anymore."
The keys. The ones Mom gave me when I was five. "This will always be your home, my love."
I stopped the car. I looked at the keychain—silver, with my initials engraved on it, a fifteenth birthday present from Mom.
And I threw it out the window.
I didn't need them anymore.
That was never my home. Not really. Not after Mom died.
I drove without a specific destination. I couldn't go back to Claudia indefinitely. She had offered, but I couldn't abuse it.
I couldn't go to the apartment I shared with Rafael. Not now. Maybe never again.
I had no friends to turn to. Rafael had isolated me very efficiently.
I had no money for a hotel. My bank account had three hundred reais. Maybe less.
I was truly, completely, absolutely alone.
And as I drove through the streets of Valmont, the city that watched me grow up, that witnessed every moment of my life, that now seemed cold and indifferent...
I began to understand what Mom meant when she said Sofia would want everything that was mine.
Because it wasn't about the things. It never was.
It was about destroying me. About proving she was better. About winning.
And she won.
Completely.
But as the sun set, painting the sky blood red, as Sofia's wedding was probably happening at that very moment, as Rafael made vows that should have been mine...
A small spark of something ignited within me.
It wasn't hope. Hope was too fragile.
It was anger.
Cold, calculated, deep anger.
They destroyed me. All of them.
But I wasn't dead.
Not yet.
And maybe, just maybe, destruction wasn't the end.
Maybe it was just the beginning.
________________________________________