After my husband threw me out of the house after our divorce, I took the old bank card my father had left behind and used it at a branch in the U.S., sending the whole bank lobby into a stir as the staff hurriedly called the manager over, and the words “Look at the name on this account!” revealed a family secret I had never known.

The tears finally escaped Zelica’s eyes. This wasn’t just a humiliation. It was an annihilation.

“You… you can’t do this.”

“Oh, I can. And I already have.”

He looked at her with eyes as cold as ice.

“Sign those papers. If you behave yourself and don’t claim marital assets, maybe I’ll be generous and give you cash for a Greyhound bus ticket back to your little town in Alabama.”

Some people in the lobby started to whisper. Seeing the scene, Zelica felt naked.

“Get out,” Quacy hissed.

“But this is my home, too.”

“Not anymore,” he shouted. “Security.”

Two security guards approached. They looked uncomfortable, but they were clearly on the side of Quacy, the owner of the penthouse.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Please don’t make a scene,” one of them said, gently grabbing Zelica’s arm.

Zelica was dragged out by force. She looked back, staring at Quacy with desperation.