“Elena, listen to me,” she said coldly. “We have to go. This dinner is vital for the family’s future. You have a phone. Call Marcus. Let him deal with his own mess. You’re making a scene.”
“Mom, I can’t move,” I whispered, my vision tunneling. “Please… don’t leave me.”
“Don’t be selfish,” my father snapped. “You’re always so selfish, Elena. Come on, Linda. Clara, let’s go.”
They turned their backs.
“Wait!” I screamed, reaching out a trembling hand.
“Lock the door behind you when the ambulance comes,” my mother called out over her shoulder. “And clean up this blood. It stains.”
The back door slammed. Then the front door. Then the sound of the deadbolt sliding home.
Silence descended on the house, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator and my own ragged, wet breathing. I was alone. Locked in. Bleeding out on the kitchen floor of the people who gave me life.
Chapter 3: The Sky Trembles
Pain is a lonely place. It strips away time and reason. I don’t know how long I lay there, but I knew I was fading. The cold from the tiles was seeping into my bones.
My baby, I thought. My little Leo. We’re not going to make it.
