oom of color against his pale, furious skin. Then, a harsh, disbelieving

nt clear my afternoon schedule. I'll stay with you." It was his usual move: a grand gesture of magnanimity that was, in r

le, as if he were a stranger who had wandered into her room by mistake. Her finger, trembling slig

a hoarse whisper, but imbued with a

ened. "Don't

ut

her expression professionally cheerful.

e discharged, please." She reached over with her good arm and, with a swift, deliberate motion,

e doctor wants you under observation for at le

is was not a game, moved toward th

ding a sharp protest through her ribs. She ignored it. She'd felt worse. So much worse. She pulled her phone from the purse that sat on the bedside t

ing her fami

or attention. This was an escape. He lunged forward and grabbed her arm, his fingers digging in

ious gaze with a look of pure, unadulterated loathing. "I'm going hom

chair, and walked out of the room. She left him standing there, amidst the

es, the towering buildings scraping the gray sky-felt both alien and achingly real. This was her city, a place she hadn't seen with her own eyes in a d

real. She

d her father's number. He a

she hadn't heard in so long, was her undoing. In her last life, he had withered after her death,

animalistic. "Dad," she managed to whisper, the si

Where are you?" Pani

t. She had to hold it together. "I... I was in a small acc

hat felt more like a fortress of memory than a house, she saw the lights blazing in the library. The butl

. She pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of the library and there they were. Her father, standing by the firep

live. They

and threw herself into her father's arms, burying her face in his chest. The sobs that wracked her body were violent, convulsive things, the outpouring of ten years of silent screamin

head. Her father's arms wrapped around her, holding her t

r murmured, his voice thick with worr

harder, mourning a past they would never know and