The second I left the group, my phone rang. It was Julian.

"Rosalie Moretti, I need you to come over here. Right now."

"Where?"

"You know where. The usual place."

"Is there something you need?"

"Apologize to Cera."

"Why should I apologize?"

"You just left the group chat out of nowhere. Do you have any idea how that makes her look to the other families?"

Julian's tone was harsh and demanding.

"I don't want people slandering her."

"I'm the one who likes her. I'm the one who wants to give her a proper title."

"She's innocent. She shouldn't have to bear a bad reputation because of your impulsive actions."

Even though I thought I was past being affected by his words, my chest ached with anger.

My fingers gripping the phone were trembling.

When I spoke, my voice shook too. "Julian, you can't treat me like this."

"Why are you bullying me like this?"

"You were the one who broke our engagement. I didn't do anything. I even congratulated you. Isn't that enough?"

I fought back tears, but my voice still cracked with emotion.

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

"Rosalie."

"I'll let it go this time."

"But I want you to remember, Cera is innocent."

"Don't take your anger out on her. Don't hurt her."

He hung up.

I sat on the carpet, my whole body shaking.

On my nightstand was a photo of my mother, her gentle, loving gaze fixed on me.

Suddenly, the tears came flooding down. I lunged forward and hugged the frame tightly.

Through the cold glass, I pressed my cheek against my mother's.

My tears wouldn't stop falling, and it felt as if the mother in the photograph was crying for her daughter's pain.

I didn't want to cry anymore. I didn't want my mother to worry, wherever she was.

Once the anniversary of her death passes, I will take the keepsakes she left for me.

I will leave New York forever and never come back.