A 19-year-old girl was left all alone when, right after her father’s funeral, her stepmother kicked her out of the house …

He did and he would, Miranda cut in, exhaling a stream of smoke. And anyway, that’s not the point. The point is we never loved each other.

I tolerated you for Andrew’s sake. Now he’s gone, and I’m not obliged to keep up this charade. Tracy felt the ground slip from under her feet.

Could this really be happening? On her father’s funeral day, she was being kicked out of her own home. I have nowhere to go, she whispered. That’s your problem, Miranda shrugged.

You have friends from university, professors who care about you. Ask to stay with someone for a while, then find a job and rent a room. In short, live like a normal person, not like a princess with everything handed to her.

Just give me a few days, Tracy pleaded. I just buried my father, and I buried my husband, Miranda cut her off. I need to be alone to process my loss.

So be kind, take your things and leave right now. But not all my things are there. Tracy glanced at the pathetic bags.

Where’s my laptop? My books? Photos? I left only the essentials, Miranda waved her off. We’ll talk about the rest later, when you’ve cooled down and start thinking reasonably. Reasonably.

Tracy felt anger boiling inside her. Reasonably, to throw a person out into 20 degree frost on her father’s funeral day? Don’t dramatize, Miranda frowned. It’s only minus 5 outside, and you’re not a stray dog.

You’re a young, healthy girl who finally needs to grow up and learn to solve her problems on her own. At that moment, Tracy realized, arguing was pointless. This woman had already made her decision.

With trembling hands, she began pulling on the coat that hadn’t yet dried after the cemetery. Make sure you took your documents, Miranda called after her. Passport, student ID.

I put everything in the side pocket of the suitcase. Tracy nodded silently, grabbed the bags and suitcase, and left, carefully closing the door behind her. Only when she reached the stairwell did she allow herself to cry.

Going down to the street, Tracy stopped by the building entrance. Where to go? Who to turn to? Her friends had gone home for the holidays, and she didn’t have any close friends she could show up to with a suitcase. There were no relatives left in the city either, only distant ones in other cities, with whom she didn’t even communicate.

Wet snow fell on her face, mixing with tears. Tracy wandered down the street, not knowing where. Her father’s face appeared before her eyes, kind, with radiant wrinkles around his eyes.

How could he leave her in such a situation? Didn’t you realize that Miranda was just waiting for a chance to get rid of her? Memories flooded her like a wave. There they were, making pizza together on the weekend. He always cooked for her on Saturdays, even when he was very busy at work.

There they were going to the circus. She was five years old, tightly holding her father’s hand, afraid of the clowns. There was her school graduation.

Dad proudly photographed her in her evening dress. And then Miranda appeared. At first, she was sweet, gave Tracy gifts, took an interest in her life.

But after the wedding, everything changed. Miranda became cold, distant, and in the last year, when her father became seriously ill, she stopped hiding her irritation altogether. Your daughter sitting in her room again, doing nothing around the house, Tracy heard from her parents’ bedroom.

She’s a grown girl, Vidya, it’s time she learns to be independent, but you keep treating her like a child. Of course, her father defended her. He said Tracy studied well and helped as much as she could, but each time his voice sounded weaker and his arguments less convincing.

The illness was draining his strength, and Miranda took advantage of it. Tracy wandered the streets, occasionally stopping to adjust the heavy suitcase more comfortably. Her hands were freezing, her gloves remained in the pocket of another coat.

Her feet began to get wet, and her winter boots were not among the most essential things she took. It got dark. Streetlights illuminated the snowy streets.

Warm light shone through house windows. People were coming home from work, hurrying to their families. Dad, where are you? Tracy thought, feeling her fingers going numb.

Why did you leave me alone? Why did you let this woman decide my fate? After all, I’m your daughter, you’re blood. But there was no answer, only the wind threw prickly snowflakes in her face. Tracy didn’t notice how her feet led her to a small park near the university…