It felt strange—almost surreal—for Anna to step foot in her childhood home again.
The Bennett mansion hadn't changed, but everything inside her had.
Once, when she was married to Daniel, her parents would constantly remind her to tend to his needs, to mold herself into the perfect wife. Especially her mother. Roseline never missed a chance to remind her that her weight was an obstacle, a flaw that might stand between her and her husband's affection.
Kathrine never had that problem. Kathrine was beautiful, radiant, confident—the perfect match for a man like Daniel Clafford. Together they looked like equals: strong, untouchable, enviable.
And then there was Anna. Shy. Awkward. Plain. A shadow in her sister's glow.
So when her father had begged her to take Kathrine's place at the altar, Anna had been certain Daniel would refuse. A man like him would never lower himself to marry someone like her.
But she had been wrong. Terribly wrong.
Daniel had agreed—and she had learned too late it wasn't because of her. It was never about her.
Life with him had been unbearable. And though her parents had known, they had still urged her to try harder, to be better, as if his indifference was her fault. Then, when Kathrine returned, everything had shifted. Kathrine was forgiven and welcomed back, while Anna… simply faded. Even the news of her pregnancy—the only fragile joy she'd carried—hadn't reached them.
The weight of it all pressed on her chest as she stood in the familiar grand hall.
"Why does it feel so strange?" she whispered, overwhelmed by the flood of old emotions.
Her thoughts were cut short by hurried footsteps.
"Anna? What are you doing here?"
Her head snapped up. Her mother descended the staircase with uncharacteristic urgency.
Roseline's voice carried shock, but her eyes told a different story—worry, not surprise.
Anna forced a polite smile, but before she could answer, her mother was already at her side, skirts swishing, eyes scanning her face with scrutiny.
Roseline's gaze raked over her as though searching for bruises or proof of distress. Only when she found none did she exhale softly in relief—though her brows quickly knitted again.
"I thought something had happened," she murmured. But her tone was clipped, sharp around the edges.
Anna tilted her head slightly, her smile fading. She could never quite tell with her mother—was this concern for her, or concern for what her presence here might mean?
The question came soon enough. "What are you doing here so early in the morning?" This time her tone was firm, almost accusatory.
Anna had never voiced aloud how differently her mother treated her and Kathrine, but she had always known. Kathrine was the perfect daughter, flawless in their eyes. Anna was the one easily overlooked.
And yet, despite everything, she still loved them. That part of her had never changed.
"Mom, where's Dad?" Anna asked instead, ignoring the question.
"In his room," Roseline replied cautiously. "Why?"
Anna didn't wait. Her legs moved before she could think, carrying her toward the staircase.
"I need to talk to him—both of you," she said firmly.
Roseline's brows furrowed deeper, suspicion clouding her gaze. Anna understood why. Every time she had tried to confide in them before—about Daniel's coldness, his absence, her loneliness—their silence had spoken louder than words.
But this time, she wouldn't let their silence suffocate her.
This time, she wouldn't hold back.
Her jaw tightened with resolve as she climbed the stairs, each step heavier than the last. She would talk to them. She would make them see that this marriage was a doomed chain around her neck. And she would convince them—no matter how much they resisted—that she wanted out.
Anna paused at the door to her father's study, her hand hovering over the brass handle. In her past life, she would have hesitated, turned back, swallowed her words.
Not this time.
She pushed the door open.
Inside, her father Hugo Bennett sat behind the desk, papers spread before him, his glasses perched low on his nose. He looked up at the sound, surprise flashing in his eyes before it shifted into something guarded. Roseline followed close behind, shutting the door softly as if to contain the conversation within these walls.
"Anna?" her father said, his brows drawing in confusion. "What brings you here at this hour?"
Anna stepped inside, hands clenched at her sides. "I need to talk to you. Both of you."
Roseline's brow furrowed as she moved to stand near her husband's side, her posture stiff. For a fleeting second the couple shared a look before Roseline spoke again.
"Is something wrong? Did Daniel say something?"
"No. He didn't say anything. It's me who wants to tell you something."
Anna's tone was firm, refusing to bend beneath the weight of their stares.
Silence thickened the air. She could almost hear their unspoken judgment: Don't make trouble. Don't disappoint us further. Don't ruin what little we have left.
"Anna, sweetheart," Roseline said finally, her voice carefully measured, "it's your first day in the Clafford house, and instead of being with your husband, you're here."
The words were coated with reprimand, not concern.
Anna inhaled deeply, holding her mother's gaze. This time, she didn't look away.
"I know it's my first day in the Clafford house," she said evenly, her voice carrying more weight than she intended, "and that's exactly why I came. To tell you both that I want to divorce Daniel."
The words dropped into the room like a stone into water, rippling outward and freezing everything in its wake.
Roseline's lips parted, shock flashing across her face before hardening into disapproval. Hugo's glasses slipped slightly down his nose as his head snapped up, his stare sharp and unyielding.
The silence was suffocating.
Anna met their glares without flinching. She had seen that look countless times—when she had tried to tell them about Daniel's indifference, about her loneliness, about her pain. They had never wanted to hear it.
But this time, she wasn't here for their approval.
She wasn't here to be the dutiful daughter or the quiet, invisible wife.
She was here for herself.
"Have you lost your mind, Anna? Do you even realize what you're saying?"
Hugo's voice, usually restrained, cracked through the study like a whip. Fury radiated from him, his composure unraveling.
Roseline flinched but quickly masked it, stepping closer to soothe him. "Darling, please," she murmured, brushing his sleeve before turning back to Anna. Her expression was composed, but her eyes gleamed with warning.
"Anna, divorce is not something you should even mention. Did you forget the shame Kathrine brought upon us when she left? Your father has worked tirelessly to rebuild our standing in Daniel's eyes. And now you—" her voice sharpened "—you want to destroy that? Do you want this family to suffer again?"
The words landed like daggers.
Inside, Anna scoffed bitterly. She had expected nothing less. Their loyalty had never been hers to claim.
"I know exactly what I'm saying," she said quietly, steadying herself. "And Dad—why won't you listen to me, just once, before condemning me?"
For a heartbeat, she hoped.
But Hugo's face only darkened, his chair scraping back as he rose to his feet. His voice was thunder.
"Enough of this nonsense, Anna. Divorce is not an option. Not for you. Not in this family."
Her breath hitched. His fury loomed over her, heavy and suffocating. And yet, beneath the fear, something inside her burned.
She wouldn't bow this time.
She opened her mouth to speak—
—but a sharp knock on the door cut through the tension.
The maid slipped in, bowing quickly. "Master, Mr. Daniel Clafford expects to meet you."
The moment Daniel's name filled the room, Anna's stomach dropped. Her parents' postures stiffened, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in their eyes.
Why would Daniel come here?
Her father's voice was clipped, controlled. "Tell him to wait. I will be right there."
The maid bowed again and left, shutting the door behind her.
When silence returned, Hugo's gaze locked onto Anna, sharp as a blade.
"I just hope you haven't done anything foolish," he said coldly.
The words pierced deeper than his fury, a warning laced with threat.
Anna's pulse thundered in her ears. She hadn't expected Daniel to follow her here. Not today. Not so soon.
And now, as her father's eyes bore into her, one terrifying thought rose above the chaos in her mind—
Had she just made a mistake she could never undo?