The world outside the gates of my uncle's estate is both smaller and larger than I imagined.

Dominic's car is practical rather than showy—a dark grey sedan that blends into the evening rather than demanding attention. He opens the passenger door for me, a gesture so simple and yet so foreign that I almost flinch. No one has opened doors for me. No one has treated me with basic courtesy.

"Where are we going?" I ask as he pulls away from Blackstone Manor, the estate disappearing in the rearview mirror.

"Riverside," he says. "There's a small apartment above the bookstore. Sophie owns the building, not just the cafe. When Marcus had the cafe burned down, she couldn't rebuild it yet—structural damage, insurance issues, that sort of thing. But the building itself is still standing. I thought you might like to see her. I think she's been worried about you."

The idea that someone was worried about me, that someone cared enough to think about my wellbeing, is still so strange that it doesn't quite feel real.

"How did you do it?" I ask. "The legal guardian thing. How did you convince a judge to—"

"Documentation," Dominic says simply. "And a good lawyer. Once I presented evidence of the conditions you were living in—the confinement, the lack of education, the physical marks Marcus left on you—the judge didn't need much convincing. Your uncle's been walking a careful line between wealthy businessman and criminal for a long time. It didn't take much to tip things in my favor."

The drive to Riverside takes about forty minutes, and it's already dark by the time we arrive. The town looks different from what I remember from my few visits to the cafe. It's quieter at night, the streets lined with closed shops and darkened windows. But there are lights on in the bookstore, warm and welcoming.

Sophie is waiting for us.

She stands in the doorway of the bookstore, and when she sees me, she smiles like I'm someone she's been waiting for all her life rather than a girl she's known for a few weeks.

"Eleanor," she says, pulling me into a hug that's so gentle and warm that I start crying without understanding why.

"I'm sorry," I manage. "He destroyed your cafe because of me. Because I was asking questions."

"Hey," Sophie says, pulling back to look at me. "Marcus destroyed my cafe because Marcus is a man who destroys things. That's not on you. That's on him. And for what it's worth, I'm covered by insurance. I'll rebuild. And in the meantime, I've got the bookstore, I've got Dominic helping with costs, and I've got you. So I call that a win."

The apartment upstairs is small but light and clean, with windows that overlook the main street. There's a bed with real linens, a small desk by the window, shelves that are already starting to fill with books.

"This is yours," Dominic says, gesturing around the room. "For as long as you need it. I've arranged for you to start online school next week. I know you've had no formal education, but I've found a program that specializes in students with nontraditional backgrounds. You'll be able to work at your own pace."

School. Online. It seems like such a simple thing, and yet it represents something enormous. It represents the possibility of a future that extends beyond serving other people.

"Thank you," I say, the words completely inadequate but all I have.

"Don't thank me," Dominic says. "Just... live. Build a life. Make your own choices. That's all I'm asking."

He leaves Sophie with me, and we spend the evening in the apartment, talking. I tell her more than I've ever told anyone—about my uncle, about the cold room, about the grey dresses and the invisible life I've been living.

And Sophie tells me about herself, about how she left a corporate job because she was tired of pretending to be small enough to fit into other people's expectations. She tells me about opening the bookstore, about how it was the scariest thing she'd ever done and also the best.

"The thing about building a new life," Sophie says as we're drinking tea before bed, "is that you get to decide who you are. Not your family. Not your circumstances. You."

That night, I lie in a bed that's actually comfortable, in a room that's warm and mine, and I think about choices.

I've been given a choice—by Dominic, by circumstance, by some turn of fate I don't fully understand. The choice to leave behind everything that was familiar and step into something unknown.

But there's something I still need to know.

The next morning, I ask Dominic to help me find my father.