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Alice’s apartment was small, a quiet sanctuary tucked into a building thirty minutes from the office by subway. It was nothing like the luxury condos her colleagues occupied, but it was hers, paid for with money she had earned and saved with obsessive discipline. The furniture was minimal and functional, pieces that could be abandoned without regret.

She had been planning her disappearance since the moment she had seen the positive pregnancy test.

Tonight, the sharp pain from earlier had subsided into a dull ache, a grim reminder that her timeline was not entirely her own. She spread her carefully organized files across the kitchen table, her sense of urgency sharpened by the scare. Bank statements, research on small towns, and a detailed budget that would take her from this moment to freedom. Three more months. That was the deadline. By then, she would have saved enough money to cover the first year of expenses.

She zeroed in on a map of Washington state, circling a small town called Port Townsend. It was quiet, had a good local clinic, and was far enough away that she could blend in without questions. She could work remotely as a freelance paralegal or virtual assistant, skills she already possessed. For the first time, she allowed herself to picture it, a quiet life in a small house near the water. A life where she could be a mother, not a secretary hiding a secret. The vision was so clear, so powerful, it almost hurt. This was not just about escape. It was about building a home.

She pulled out her budget spreadsheet and added today’s paycheck to the running total. The number crept higher, but not fast enough. Then, a flicker of doubt. Could she really do this alone? The thought was a cold sliver of fear in her chest. She had always been pragmatic, but the reality of raising a child with no family and no partner was a weight she had not allowed herself to fully feel until now. She pushed the feeling down. She had to be strong enough.

Her hand moved to her stomach, a gesture that was becoming habit. The baby was twelve weeks now, a secret miracle growing steadily. She had scheduled her first proper prenatal appointment for early the next morning, claiming a dentist visit on her work calendar.

The thought of Harry finding out made her chest tighten with panic. He doesn't even remember me, she reminded herself. I am just his secretary.

Alice pulled out a notebook and began writing down her tasks. She needed to subtly reduce her workload, making herself less critical to daily operations. She needed to document every process so thoroughly that anyone could step into her role. She had worked herself to exhaustion proving her value, and now she had to carefully undo that impression without raising suspicion.

Her phone buzzed with an email notification at nearly ten o'clock. She felt her stomach drop as she saw the sender: Harry Mendes. The email was not just late, it was unreasonable.

“Ms. Winston, I need you to cancel your morning appointments and be in the office at six. The Tokyo investors have moved our call forward. I need you to have a full analysis of their Q3 performance and a revised negotiation strategy drafted before the call begins. Their fiscal year ends this week, and we will use that leverage.”

Alice stared at the message, frustration and exhaustion warring in her chest. Six in the morning meant she would have to cancel her doctor’s appointment. The appointment she had waited weeks for, the one that was supposed to reassure her that the pain she felt earlier was nothing serious. She would have to reschedule, push it back another week, and live with the gnawing anxiety.

She typed out a response, her fingers hitting the keys harder than necessary. “Of course, Mr. Mendes. I will be there.”

The phone buzzed again immediately. “Thank you. Your insight on this matter is invaluable.”

Alice set the phone down and pressed her palms against her eyes, fighting the burning sensation that threatened to become tears. She could not afford to be invaluable. Every compliment, every acknowledgment of her skills, was another chain binding her to a situation that was becoming more impossible by the day.

She stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the city lights. She looked at the picture of Port Townsend on her screen and pictured a quiet life. She would make that life a reality. The thought was no longer just a plan; it was a promise. A fierce, protective wave of determination washed over her, chasing away the doubt. She would do whatever it took.

Alice returned to the table and added a new item to her timeline: find a way to make herself replaceable. It would require subtlety, a careful campaign of strategic delegation that made her seem less perfect. She would become good instead of exceptional, reliable instead of irreplaceable. She would become the kind of employee a CEO could let go without a second thought.