The Departure

The fallout was quiet, as things in high society often are. There was no screaming match. Julian was sent to his room like a child. Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood sat in the solarium, staring at the ruins of their family dynamic.

Sophie was packing her bag in the servants' quarters. She knew she was fired. You couldn't expose the masters and expect to stay.

A knock came at her door.

She opened it to find Liam. He was wearing a leather jacket, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He looked lighter. Younger.

"You didn't have to do that," he said.

"I hate bullies," Sophie replied, zipping her bag. "And I hate bad liars. Julian is both."

Liam chuckled. It was a warm sound. "They didn't fire you, you know. Mother is terrified of you now. She thinks you’re some kind of Sherlock Holmes with a dustpan."

"I'm leaving anyway," Sophie said. "I can't work for people who need a scapegoat to function."

"Good," Liam said. "Because I'm leaving too. I bought a place in the city months ago. I just... didn't think I was allowed to use it."

He hesitated, shifting the bag on his shoulder. The rude, arrogant mask was gone completely, replaced by a shy uncertainty.

"I need a house manager," Liam said. "Someone to run the place. Keep me from killing the plants. Someone who isn't afraid to tell me when I'm being an idiot."

Sophie paused. She looked at the boy who had tried to protect his family by letting them destroy him, and she saw the man he was about to become.

"I'm expensive," Sophie said, a small smile playing on her lips.

Liam grinned back. "I can afford it."

He held the door open for her.

"After you," he said.

Sophie picked up her bag and walked out of the servant’s quarters, past the library, and out the front door. Liam followed her, closing the heavy oak door on the Blackwood Estate with a final, decisive click.

They walked down the driveway together, leaving the shattered vase and the shattered family behind, stepping into a night that was quiet, clear, and entirely their own.