Chapter 4 - Walking Out Alone
The walk down the grand staircase of the Ashcombe Grand was the longest walk of Imogen’s life. Three hundred pairs of eyes tracked her every step, but for the first time all day, she didn't feel exposed. She felt armored.
She had kicked off her designer heels somewhere near the tenth step, preferring to walk barefoot on the cool marble in her silk-lined wedding gown. The heavy train dragged behind her, sweeping up dust and fallen rose petals, a physical manifestation of the baggage she was finally leaving behind.
Outside, the autumn air was sharp, smelling of impending rain and city exhaust. A row of black-and-white police cruisers and unmarked federal vehicles clogged the grand driveway, their emergency lights flashing eerie strokes of red and blue across the limestone facade of the hotel.
Media vans were already swarming the perimeter, reporters shouting questions into microphones, cameras zooming in on her ivory dress.
Imogen didn't stop. She raised her chin, bypassed the chaos of the press, and walked straight toward the curb where a silver sedan sat with its engine idling.
The rear door opened, and a little girl with short dark hair and wide, nervous hazel eyes peered out. She couldn't have been more than eight years old. She wore a simple blue cardigan that was slightly too big for her shoulders, clutching a stuffed rabbit to her chest like a shield.
Elena appeared behind Imogen, her hand hovering gently near Imogen’s shoulder before dropping back. "Imogen... you don't have to do this."
"I want to," Imogen said softly.
She knelt down on the damp concrete by the open car door, ignoring the way the expensive silk of her wedding dress soaked up the street grime. She forced her face into a warm, gentle smile, keeping her movements slow so as not to frighten the child.
"Hi," Imogen said softly. "Are you Sarah?"
The little girl nodded slowly, her hazel eyes darting to Elena standing behind Imogen, then back to the wedding dress. "Are you a princess?" she whispered.
Imogen let out a watery, genuine laugh. "No, sweetie. Not a princess at all. In fact, I'm just someone who had a very strange day." She reached out, opening her palm. "Your mom is right over there. She's been looking for you for a very, very long time."
Sarah looked out the door at Elena. Elena dropped to her knees right beside Imogen on the dirty pavement, ignoring her own clothes, her hands trembling as she reached out.
"Hi, peanut," Elena choked out, her voice breaking completely.
Sarah stared at Elena for three long seconds. Then, slowly, the defensive posture melted away. The little girl dropped her stuffed rabbit, threw her arms around Elena’s neck, and buried her face in her shoulder, sobbing out five years of lost time.
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Imogen stood up slowly, watching them hold each other against the backdrop of flashing police lights and media noise. She felt a profound sense of closure settle over her bones. Her wedding was gone, her fiancé was a coward, and her future was completely blank.
And for the first time in her life, she had never felt more free.
