“You can’t even walk!” he snapped, towering over her with cruel satisfaction, his arm casually draped around the shoulder of the woman beside him—his pregnant mistress. His words weren’t just sharp, they were meant to crush.

“Why are you even here?” he continued, smirking. “Don’t you get it? Your life is over. I’ve moved on. I have a future now.”

Elena said nothing at first. Her eyes moved from him to the woman next to him. He looked uneasy, sweat glistening on his brow, shirt collar crumpled like his morals. She stood calm and poised, her expression sterile, like the lobby of a hospital that never sees joy.

Elena finally spoke, her voice flat, drained of emotion. “So… why now? Why are you standing in front of me?”

He hesitated before speaking. “I thought it was better you heard it from me than someone else. We’re moving. Into the apartment. The one we shared—well, it used to be ours. But you understand, I just… can’t anymore.”

He gestured vaguely, as if the motion alone excused everything.

Without a word, Elena reached to the table beside her, picking up a folder. She handed it to him with steady hands.

“It’s all in there,” she said calmly. “Everything you’ll need.”

His brow furrowed as he took it. “This… this is the deed? You’re giving us the apartment?” Even the other woman stepped back slightly, disbelief written on her face.

“Yes,” Elena replied simply. “It’s hers now. I have other things to focus on.”

He chuckled, the smugness returning. “Other things? You? You can’t even walk.”

Elena closed her eyes for a brief moment. When she opened them again, her gaze was unwavering—clear and still like deep water.

She slowly removed the blanket covering her legs, untied the cane resting beside her, and stood up.

One step.

Then another.

Each one echoing like thunder in the silent room.

They both froze.

“I was in an accident,” she said, her tone even, “not a life sentence. But that doesn’t matter anymore.”

His face paled. “But… the doctors said…”

“You believed what you wanted to believe. That I was stuck. Helpless. Out of the way. But you gave me something—space, time, and freedom. And now, I’m returning the favor.”

Elena turned to leave. At the door, she paused and looked back over her shoulder. Her voice was clear, deliberate.

“You took my home,” she said. “So I took your freedom.”

“What are you talking about?” the mistress asked, her voice cracking.

The man looked stunned. “Wait… what do you mean?”

Elena tilted her head, that calm expression never wavering. “The file. Read it. Especially the last page.”

And with that, she walked out. Her steps were slow, but steady. The soft tap of her cane echoed behind her like punctuation at the end of a story.

Silence fell, thick and heavy, before the man scrambled to open the folder. Page after page passed through his trembling fingers—until the last one.

His face turned white.

“What is this?” he stammered.

The last clause read: “Transfer of ownership is contingent upon the new owner accepting full legal custody of a child born from an extramarital affair.”

He looked at the woman beside him. Her face twisted with confusion.

“You… didn’t tell me there was a child.”

Elena’s voice no longer filled the room—but her presence lingered. Her footsteps faded down the hall like an exclamation point.

And behind her, the truth detonated in the silence.