Cleansing
She could do this.
She could.
It was not difficult to do, skimming items from the house and moving them to somewhere safer. A shirt one day, a couple of books the next, tucked into a bag were inconspicuous. Through this method she'd cleared out her wardrobe and bookcase, and begun to call in movers to get rid of the various pieces of furniture. They were going to good use elsewhere – she no longer wanted them.
People didn't notice either. Few people visited, and she took to dropping in on Nolan when she wanted to speak with him. It was enough social interaction that he didn't need to stop by, and one afternoon she'd just seen off a couple of movers when motion from some distance caught her eye.
Victoria stood there on her balcony, no doubt watching, and she moved back indoors, returning to clearing out the kitchen.
There was no need to hide after all. For now, the woman could think she was simply moving out – or renovating. Either was an acceptable explanation. Within only a few weeks she'd stripped the house mostly bare, leaving in some furniture that she disliked greatly now.
The house no longer had something for her – there was no sentiment behind her stay here. It was mainly practical for her to live here. Here, she remained close to her few friends – and yet there were the bigger, darker memories. She supposed it was a sort of tactile memory. Here, she remembered sitting with her father; here, she'd watched helplessly as he was taken away; here, she'd seen the woman next door sneak in.
These memories managed to take over, nurtured as she traced the path of revenge and overrode the good. They overrode the pancakes her father would make with fresh fruit; the rainy nights spent in front of the fireplace and the way the house was a home.
A couple of newspapers, crinkly and dry from being in the sunlight, lay near to a small heater. She flicked the heater on and waited as the room began to warm, before leaving the house and closing the door behind her. It would take some time, she knew, but would work soon enough.
Destruction was not a new thing for her. This made everything else she'd done look small in comparison, and she would not be around when her plan entered its final stage.
Destruction, this time, would come from a careless mistake, and from there it was a case of farewelling Nolan – though he did not yet know it – and leaving. From there it would be a clear, easy path to the airport, where she would step into another character's shoes, and begin again – a borrowed second chance.
Maybe her next persona will be what she's looking for.