The Unwanted Wife Walks Away Free

ose driver was shouting into his phone in a language Faith didn't recognize. Neon from a Duane

sign flash past-Penn Station, 2 bloc

't fit, holding a suitcase with everything she owned. The social worker's hand had been sweaty on her el

e, and somewhere in the chaos of emergency rooms and police questions, Faith had learned that important people could make problems disapp

ws that cost more than Faith's childhood home. She'd descended slowly, each step deliberate, her

elling of gardenias-had lifted Faith's chin. "You'll need to learn our rules. The Jarvis name opens doors,

y bed and a bathroom larger than her parents' kitchen, and she'd learned to be still. To be quiet. To di

fore Faith arrived. She'd found it on her third day, pushing open a door that stuck in h

week later when t

, still wearing his riding boots. He'd stopped in the doorway, survey

," he'd said. "Maki

the floorboards. She'd known who he was. Everyone knew

lose enough that she could smell horse and expensive soap.

s, already too small-and wiped at the paint with her sleeve. It had spread, pin

t curl still on his lip. "Cheap pet," he'd

n her knees until the paint dri

. Faith's hand shot out, catchin

us's voice was strained. "Taxi

e could still smell the turpentine. Still f

r elbow, not quite touching. "You're pale.

m f

by touch, and pulled out the lipstick she hadn't worn in three years. It w

he small rectangle, unfamiliar without its usual careful neutrality. She traced the

rror looked like sh

vis-" Hol

re c

blocked the sky. Faith watched them grow, glass and steel canyons where men

ded to-Branson came home when he chose, or d

head, all black glass and aggressive angles, the company logo rendered i

avy blazer spotted the license plate and starte

pavement, her cheap coat flaring in the wind that tunneled between bu

f Branson's ambition, his empire, his

nt-muscles she'd trained into permanent pleas

ind her, clutching the envelopes. "Your la

ee h

silver tie precisely knotted. He held a briefcase in one hand and che

meter, the only crack in his professional composu

grip was dry and

ors, toward the empire, toward the man who'd spent fourteen