The car gave a final groan as it rolled to a stop, like even the vehicle itself had grown tired of the journey. The engine sputtered, the brakes wheezed, and the seat beneath Penny gave one last creak of defiance as she pushed herself upright.
"I swear on my last Chanel highlighter," she muttered, "my butt may never recover."
She flung the door open with a dramatic huff and stepped out, heels sinking slightly into the soft dirt. Immediately, the fresh country air assaulted her. It was clean—too clean. The kind of clean that hinted at... nature.
She looked around.
Green. Just... green. Endless, open pastures stretching in every direction. Rolling hills blanketed in grass, dotted with lazy cows who stared at her with casual judgment. One of them let out a low, bored moo as if to say, You don't belong here, darling.
To her left, a goat bleated, its narrow eyes narrowing as it chewed on something that definitely wasn't food. Penny gasped. "Is that goat staring at me? Oh my GOSH. He's staring at me."
Then, in the near distance, she saw it: a red barn with weathered wooden panels, clearly held together by nothing but stubbornness and country pride. And next to it, a modest white house with a slanted roof, mismatched shutters, and flower boxes that had seen better seasons.
"No," she said softly. "No, no, no, no—this can't be right."
The house looked like it had been pulled from an outdated postcard and then forgotten by the mailman. There was no gated driveway. No Greek columns. No sign of an aesthetic or a smart thermostat. There was a clothesline. With clothes on it. Drying. In the open air.
She spun around and made a beeline back to the cab, heels clicking violently against the gravel. The driver had already popped the trunk and was unloading her pink suitcase like it weighed nothing. As she neared, Aunt Marlene stepped out of the car with a peaceful sigh, looking as if she were stepping into a scene from her favorite Swiss drama series. Lina followed close behind, already texting like the world wasn't ending around them.
Penny stopped dead in her tracks. "Wait... you got out too?"
Aunt Marlene gave her a warm smile and held out her suitcase. "Welcome home, darling."
"Home?" Penny repeated, as if the word physically offended her.
"This is a joke, right? Like an immersive Survivor: Rich Girl Edition prank?" she asked, trying to force a laugh.
"No," Lina said flatly, dragging her duffel over the gravel. "This is not a joke. This is Switzerland."
Penny stared, her jaw hanging open like she was mid-scream but couldn't find the breath.
"You expect me to live here?" she gasped. "With cows? And mud? Cows and mud?!"
A loud oink sounded in the distance.
"No.NO. Do not tell me there are pigs. I cannot—I simply CANNOT—live next to animals who don't even wear collars!" She clutched her purse to her chest like it was the only clean thing left in the world.
In a panic, she reached into her coat pocket, pulling out her phone like it was a weapon. She tapped the screen and waited for the bars to show.
Nothing.
"Okay... Okay... breathe," she whispered. "It's probably roaming. We're in the Alps. I'll just call Tiffany and scream. She'll know what to do."
She raised the phone to her ear.
And then... "No Service."
Her pupils dilated.
"No. Service?" she whispered. "No. Service."
And then—
"OH. MY. GOSH!!!" she screamed, high and sharp enough to make the goat flinch.
Marlene turned her head toward the sound, suitcase still in hand, the breeze gently playing with the hem of her coat. Lina sighed and muttered, "There it is."
Penny spun around, heels kicking up dust, phone still held high in some desperate hope the sky would suddenly love her enough to provide a signal.
"This is a HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATION!" she shouted at no one. "I have been exiled. This is exile! My phone doesn't work. The air smells like manure and... Regrets. Do you understand I had to sit on a seat that felt like burlap and broken dreams?!"
Marlene gently placed her hand on Penny's shoulder. "You'll get used to it."
"I'm not meant to get used to anything. I am meant to inspire envy, not milk-producing animals!"
Lina rolled her eyes and grabbed one of Penny's smaller bags. "Just wait until she sees her room."
"I HAVE A ROOM?" Penny gasped. "Do the animals have rooms too? Do we share walls? Is there a COW ROOM?!"
The goat bleated again.
Penny, still frozen in place, stared up at the gray-blue sky, her world collapsing around her in the soft clinking of cowbells and the faint scent of hay. Her pink suitcase stood by her side like a loyal but confused friend.
Somewhere, deep inside her Gucci-lined soul, a fire began to burn. In agony .