It felt as though it was all leading up to this, and Nyasa Freeman had to admit that it felt pretty damn good. The last few months had been extremely grueling for her, but in truth, she felt as though she had no reason to complain, considering just how good she had it these last few months compared to the months prior. She had a roof over her head, had met several interesting characters, and she had watched the Negaverse that she had once loved get itself back to its feet. What more could she want?

She felt… almost uncharacteristically optimistic as she packed away her belongings, gaining Baldwin’s interest as the Irish wolfhound sat at the doorway, peering in but knowing not to enter. He stretched his long neck as far as it could go, and she decided not to shoo him away for once. After all, he had every right to be curious. She had been his constant companion while his owner was away and had saved him from the evil monster known as the vacuum cleaner and the beast that wielded it, so it only made sense that he’d be nosing in on her affairs.

Perhaps he sensed that she was in a good mood and wanted in on it? Or perhaps he knew something that his master did not know? Baldwin was intelligent, or at least as intelligent as a dog living under the Moreau condo could manage to be, so it wouldn’t have surprised her in the least that he was looking at the boxes and suitcase and knowing full well what was going on.

When Richard returned from work, whatever ungodly time that’d be, Nyasa Freeman would be gone. There would be no hide or hair of her to be seen around the apartment and the only one that would greet him would be the ever faithful Baldwin, and Nyasa was surprisingly okay with this. She thought about telling him, but every chance she had was shot down by one strange occurrence after the other. She wanted to hold a surprise party for him, but she had no funds to even consider it, and given the kind of man that Richard was becoming, he wouldn’t take kindly to her wasting anymore of his precious bourbon, as well as having to clean up the mess (if one assumed he forgot to pay the maid again as his civilian duties were slipping). No, all she would leave him is a note, in which she was taking a little too much joy in writing right now.

‘To my most gracious host,
I’m leaving. Don’t ask about me, because I’ll likely see you at the next meeting. Get your s**t together, or I will allow your psychopath of a boyfriend rend you asunder, and I am really looking forward to extracting my revenge.

Hugs and kisses,
A Free b***h.’

((Word count: 484))